


One Too Many Truths

by perfectlystrange



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon-Typical Violence, Espionage, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Outer Space, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, SAUBB 2018, Slow Burn, no superpowers but they're super anyway, on that note, with a side of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-07 04:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17953727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystrange/pseuds/perfectlystrange
Summary: The year is 2298 and the world is slowly deteriorating. People are starving and the Earth is becoming increasingly scorched. But the world spins on, life keeps going...Steve had finally put his time growing up in the orphanage behind him along with his delusional dreams of spending his time as an artist. He’d long since traded that in for something far more practical, given the times.He’d wanted to do good in the world for as long as he could remember. If that meant joining a Special Op in the military then so be it. As Steve looks deeper into the operation it becomes clear that it isn’t everything it advertises. With every overspilled secret, the choices that emerge from them become more tainted with grey.When he is ordered to hunt down a man without explanation, a man who is strangely familiar, Steve is forced to question the morality of the operation. A man who turns out to know every piece of hidden intel that holds power over the military. Navigating the maze of the intelligence community quickly turns into balancing the fate of the human race.In such times, there are some who let the desperation control them and there are others who make a choice and take the lesser of the two evils.





	1. The Twelve

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been a long time coming, like a long time. I first got the idea back in 2016, but life took its path and I wasn't able to work on it properly until I started writing regularly last year. When the SAUBB was announced, I knew it would be the perfect goal to finish by.
> 
> That didn't come easily and this story may have still been in my WIP's if it weren't for my amazing beta, Merry ([@merryrf](https://merryrf.tumblr.com)). Thank you for all your helpful tips and your patience when I didn't make one of my deadlines. That comes to my second thank you, to [@ClaraxBarton](http://claraxbarton.tumblr.com) for creating two fantastic artworks and a banner to accompany this fic-you'll be seeing all three soon!
> 
> So before this turns into anymore of an essay, here are the first two chapters of One Too Many Truths, enjoy!  
> -Mels  
> tumblr- [@thesupersoldiers](http://thesupersoldiers.tumblr.com)

**August, 2298**

A fist was on its way to Steve’s face, but he had already seen it. He dodged to the side and matched the strike with a faster blow. There was a loud and swift crunch as Steve’s punch met with Sam’s jaw. But Sam wasn’t down long. He ran into Steve’s knees. Steve was not at all anticipating this and he crashed to the mat. He used the momentum to sweep up and barrel into Sam’s chest. Sam spluttered. This time he stayed down.

“Alright, that's enough," General Fury's voice echoed in the otherwise silent room. "Rogers, Wilson, join the others."

They both nodded. Steve offered his hand to Sam, who accepted it and stumbled to his feet. Sam was still coughing when they got back to the rest of the recruits.

“Congratulations, you twelve are the new initiates,” Fury paused, “and, the only new initiates for the Special Operative Program.”

This stirred some motion in the line; it was the first they had heard of such a team, but they all remained silent.

“Your results in training were above the rest of the initiates. You have been given a chance to make a lasting impact on our world.

“Any objections?” He waited for only a moment. “Thought not.”

Nick Fury had an intimidating presence, he was someone you did not want to be on the wrong side of. Steve respected that. This was a man who had been through the system, climbed the ranks, and was now the one giving the orders. Steve wondered if he ever knew if that was going to happen, or if he’d come into the military, high energy, forgiving, and ready to serve, only to be beaten down, shaped by the program to fit their standards.  

Fury signalled to someone behind them and a man in a lab coat hurriedly came forward.

“These are your tags, I'm sure you’re all familiar with them. In case you aren’t, _don’t_ take them off.” He scanned the line, Steve saw that as Fury tried to make eye-contact, most of the recruits would hastily look down, when he came to Steve, however, Steve looked right into his eye. The general’s eyebrow twitched slightly upward, but he dropped the tag into Steve’s palm without a word.

 

_54985870_

_ROGERS_

_STEVEN, G_

_TYPE O_

 

Steve slipped the tags over his head and tucked them under his t-shirt. The chain was cool against his skin, but he felt as if he had always worn them.

“You will all receive your briefing in a matter of days, until then, you will stay in the initiates housing, and now may leave the premises. If you haven’t already gathered, this program doesn’t exist to the outside world.

“Dismissed.”

 

**~**

 

The new initiate housing was extremely quiet. The room was no longer filled with soft breathing of other people. Steve wasn’t complaining, he had so much more space now, and only one roommate. Still, Steve lay completely and frustratingly awake. He was just trying to get in a quick nap. He took to looking for patterns in the ceiling, but it appeared to have been recently painted and it stared back at him like a clean slate.

Evening was taking shape when Steve finally gave up.

Apparently tradition called for new initiates to celebrate the first night, and though Steve had been reluctant, Sam insisted that he came along. Several initiates from Regular Operative came and Steve’s whole Special Op Division was there too. Of course, the regular operatives had no idea they were any different and at the moment, most of them were too drunk to care. Steve had managed to stay sober, but seemed to have a glass shoved into his hand constantly, which he kept passing along to a grateful stranger.

The bar was filled with warm, moving bodies, swinging to the muffled beat of the music in the background. Steve sat, contently watching the varying degrees of emotion across the room.

“Would you watch where you’re going, you just lost your tip!” The gruff voice cut through the layers of noise and made everyone stop in their tracks.

Steve and many others turned to find a large man in a suit. His face was red from the heat, or the events that had just occurred. Shattered glass surrounded the floor beneath him. His shirt was soaked and he was furiously scrubbing at it with an already soaked napkin.

A horrified waitress was hurriedly picking up the shards. “I’m so sorry Sir! I didn’t see you round the corner.”

Steve tentatively made his way over and started gathering them off the floor. That close up, Steve saw that the girl had two different coloured eyes. One of them seemed to gleam more than the other despite the dim lights. _What was that mutation called?_ _Heter-heterochr—_ he couldn't remember.

The man didn’t say anything until his gaze dropped to the waitress’ fingers and his recently calmed expression changed in an instant. Steve followed his gaze to see a slight variation of skin tone between her wrist and the rest of her hand—s _kin grafting._ It dawned on him that it wasn't a mutation at all in her eyes, one was just robotic.

“ _Fucking cyborgs_ ,” the man muttered under his breath.

It was almost inaudible, but Steve just about caught it. The man locked eyes with Steve, who just glared back, and the man quickly looked away.

“What the hell is going on out here!” A person who seemed to be the owner briskly came out from the back of the bar. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he swiped it out of his eyes.

“You! Are you the owner?”

“I am.”

“Are you aware,” the man glanced towards the now trembling girl, “that you are hiring _cyborgs?_ ”

“Well, I am now.” The owner appeared to be unfazed with the announcement. “Is that a problem?”

“I was under the impression this was a high-class establishment.”

“This is a bar.” The exasperation was clear.

The man gave one last huff, before he stormed out the building in a last attempt at a dramatic act for attention.

“Carry on, everyone, sorry for the disturbance.”

There was a pause but within a few seconds, everyone had started dancing again, caught back into the sway of the music. Steve looked back to the waitress who was still crouched low, wiping the floor with a rag.

“You okay?” he asked calmly.

“Fine sir, thank you.”

Before he could say anything else, she abruptly stood up and turned away, obviously eager to end the conversation. Steve was taken aback for a moment but merely walked back to Sam and the others who had now formed a conga line.

“ _Steve,_ ” Sam slurred, “come join the back.”

“I'm good, I’ll just watch,” Steve chuckled.

“Suit yourself.”

Steve did watch, intently. Many had now joined the long line and it was beginning to curve to the room’s shape to account for its new members.

He wasn’t sure how long he actually sat for, but eventually, the bar started to empty out until only a few people lingered, still lost within the flow of the bar. Most of his team had gone, and he vaguely remembered Maria saying goodnight as she left. He looked round and saw that Sam was still in the centre, dancing closely with a long haired brunette girl, who was a tad taller than him. Sam was staring deeply up into her eyes and she was returning the gaze.

Steve felt somewhat guilty as he made his way over, but it was almost 3 am and they had training in the morning. He tapped Sam on the shoulder who jumped and turned around.

“Oh, Steve, hey,” Sam sounded tired. “This is Vanessa, isn’t she pretty?” his words merged together as he struggled to stand still.

Steve briefly glanced across at Vanessa and uttered a quick “Hi,” before looking back at Sam.

“Sorry to split you up but we have training tomorrow, today even, god it’s so late,” Steve burbled.

“Who cares? Not me,” Sam spoke with an offended tone.

“I’m sure you won’t be saying that once you’re sober.”

Steve slung his arm over his friend's shoulder, and Sam returned the gesture. Sam glimpsed over his shoulder and gave a quick wave, but oddly, Vanessa had already disappeared.

The taxi rank wasn’t far, but with someone balancing against your side, barely able to stand, it felt longer. Steve carefully shoved Sam into the back and followed him in.

“Where to?” The taxi driver asked.

“Uh, Hyhild Way please.”

“Sure thing.”

Once they were both safely inside their apartment, Steve placed a drunken Sam on his bed. He proceeded to turn over and immediately fall asleep. Steve crossed the hall to his own room and slipped off his shoes. He was far too exhausted to do anything other than slip under the covers. It wasn’t long before he too was taken by sleep. It was one of the best night’s sleep he'd had in a while.

 

**~**

 

Several days passed before any news from Fury came. It was on a particularly windy Friday afternoon, when Steve finally received a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” he called to the other room, though he knew Sam wouldn’t have made a move to get the door either way. The man on the other side began speaking as soon as it was open.

“General Fury requests you, and Private Wilson, meet in the mission room for briefing. You have twenty minutes.”

“Understood.”

With that, the officer clicked his heels and continued onto another apartment.

After he told Sam, Steve went to his own room and started getting into his uniform. He pinned the badge indicating his rank on the upper left pocket and made his way into the living room, where Sam was already dressed and ready to go. They still had seven minutes to make it to the mission room which considering their location, was more than enough time.

They were some of the first to arrive, Steve noticed a man sitting next to Fury. The man was wearing a pristine uniform, which, like the man, looked old, though it had not lost its form. His hair was tinted with grey at the ends and the rest was on the verge of following.

Steve and Sam took a seat opposite them and waited. Eventually, the last of the initiates arrived. Fury didn’t waste any time, he started as soon as everyone was seated.

The last to arrive was a woman in a military uniform like his own, though hers was adorned with several medals. Her expression was impossible to read as she made for the last empty chair.  

“Gentlemen, ladies, as you know, you all have been drafted into a Special Operative program, but we’re here to shine some light on what that actually entails. This is Peggy Carter, the training coordinator, today she is here simply for observation and this is Anthony Durami, he is the program director. ”

Director Durami stood up and smoothed his hands against his suit. The non-existent wrinkles stayed invisible.

“Thank you, General.”

Steve got the impression that Director Durami was one of those people that even when they grow old, they try to be like the younger generation while failing tremendously doing so.

“Right, I’ll get straight to it; this program is about saving what’s left of the human race and finding a permanent solution to the dwindling world around us. Yes, we caused most of that damage, but somehow, we’ll find a way, and it’s our job to find it.”

Steve was immediately sceptical, such huge ambition with so few resources, and who knew how long before the sun finally gave up. It was big talk for what few advancements had been made in recent years. This was the end of the twenty-third century, no one ever planned too far ahead. He looked across to Sam, who appeared as if he felt the same way, his eyebrow raised and his head slightly tilted. Steve gave a small nod in agreement.

“How do you plan to do all those things, Director?” Bobbi spoke up. It was evident that Steve was not the only one who had little hope for what they were suggesting.

“All will be revealed once you have officially accepted your role, but it’s a simple decision. Do you, or do you not want to save what’s left of the Earth’s population? Whatever it takes?”

“Depends on what the stakes are, and what sacrifices have to be made,” Steve chimed in. There had to be a loophole or it wouldn’t be so secretive. He saw Carter was following every move, every objection that an initiate made.

“With as little sacrifice as possible, but if we do nothing we definitely won't find a solution.”

Steve looked away.

“If you all agree with the terms, the agreement and benefits are here,” Durami held up a pile of papers, “which require a signature. Should you decide to opt out,” he motioned towards the door. The director dropped the forms onto the table with more force than was needed and took a seat.

Steve took a sheet and began reading; most of the personal benefits listed were full of ego boosters, but the benefits towards the world seemed life changing. He looked around the table, and saw that both Maria and Brock had already signed. Steve didn’t know why he was hesitating, he glanced over at Sam who shrugged and signed too. Slowly, Steve grabbed the nearby pen and scrawled his name on the line. He handed it back without a second thought.

Durami smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “Thank you, for your cooperation.”

“You will receive your first assignment shortly, until then, keep training,” Fury added. “You are now the Seventeenth Division of the Special Op Program.”

 

**~**

 

Training was closely monitored by Peggy. She was extremely thorough, determined, and had a strict air about her. She was the walking definition of professional detachment. No one ever saw her out of training time, and no one contradicted her orders. Anyone who even tried to step out of line was swiftly put in their place. But Steve observed that despite her reputation, Peggy Carter was fair. She always had a just reason for her actions, but was brutally honest. Steve respected her completely, ignoring the constant complaints he overheard in the change room every morning without fail. In target practice, she never held back critiquing any imprecise movement, she definitely knew her stuff. It made her compliments that much more valuable.

“Steady hands!”

“Calm your breathing!”

Her voice echoed through the arena through the brief pauses in the synchronized ringing of bullets.

Most of the time, the comments weren’t directed towards him, but Steve often sharpened his focus just to make sure. The targets were stationary—for now, but the team would soon progress to moving holograms, and that was a whole other ball game. Thankfully, his shots were generally in or around the centre of the target. Beside the board was a screen that kept track of his score, which was surprisingly high. The gun in his palm had become more familiar over the weeks, but at the same time, it was still completely foreign. It didn’t sit right. It shouldn’t fit as perfectly within his hand as it did. Steve had never needed to use one, not properly, not on another person. Not seen the true damage it could invoke down the barrel of his own gun. _Focus Rogers._

Dust billowed in the faint wind down the row of firing soldiers. Steve blinked the grit rapidly out of his eyes but he was fighting a losing battle.

Carter signalled the end of practice and simultaneously, the shots were silenced. It was several more seconds before the ringing in his ears dulled. Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

"Everything alright, Rogers?" Agent Carter asked.

"

With an empty fridge back at the apartment, Steve headed to the market that had established itself in the centre of the city. The crammed stalls were constantly serving customers. The dome above protected them from the dust, but also from the intermittent wind, that would surely blow the stands over in an instant if left unchecked. The dust had been the first sign that they were running out of time. By the time Steve was six, most of the outdoor venues needed to be covered and the dome was installed over the marketplace shortly after. It was, at first, a temporary measure. The dust was never meant to stay. 

Colours from the stalls melded with each other, giving the impression that the booths simply merged together. The sun beating down caused rainbows to refract in the glass, and the light was cast down onto the floor,causing brilliant colours. He hadn’t been to the market in years, the orphanage and then the military, always took care of everything so he hadn’t needed too. Instead, he’d grown up in the secret alleys where many of the other kids spent their time to escape. It hadn’t changed much, except it wasn’t quite as busy as he’d remembered. More stalls, fewer people but nowadays, there were fewer people everywhere. The world could no longer keep up with the demands of the population, so something had to give. 

Steve found the stall with the diminishing supply of vegetables. He grabbed what he could and requested some steak. The grateful store owner handed it over the counter and Steve placed his palm on the screen to pay.

 He was about to leave when another stall grabbed his attention.

 “Equal rights for Cyborgs! They may not be completely human, but they are still people!” a girl shouted triumphantly from behind the counter, while another looked utterly tired. Steve wasn’t at all expecting to be semi-barked at and was taken aback. The girl looked like she regretted it, but quickly gained composure again when he didn’t move.   

“Would you like to support our cause, sir?"

Steve surveyed every detail of the stand. The box of badges that was practically full, and the pamphlets on the table were equally untouched. The banner above him read JusticeforBorgs in bulky lettering. Steve blinked, “Sorry?”

“Um,” she looked back to the other girl, “we were wondering if you wanted to support our cause?”

“Uh, sure,” he replied not completely sure what that entailed.

 The girl handed over a badge showing the organisation’s logo. He was just about ready to leave, when he noticed a donation screen. He planted his palm onto  screen identical to the one at the previous stand. The girl beamed. “Thank you!”

“No problem.” He returned the smile, moving away from the only empty stand in the market.

 Steve joined the bustling crowd and navigated through the organised chaos. He managed to slip into a gap and moved out of the main rush. He cast a final glance towards the mass of people, before making his way back to the apartment.

 

**~**

 

True to his word, Fury announced the first mission of their division near the end of the month. Steve had collapsed on the sofa next to Sam when he heard a ping from his military-issued memoband. It gave him updates or changes in missions and new orders, as well as communication with his team. His personal memoband had been confiscated once he joined, as that model was much easier to trace and hack.

 The hologram projected onto his arm:

**REPORT FOR MISSION: EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.**

 Steve swiped away the message and stood up with Sam in unison. They exchanged a glance before they each headed to their rooms. Steve pulled out his mission gear. The tough deep-blue material was unfamiliar and stiff from lack of use, though it fit perfectly to his figure and curve of his back. They walked to the mission room together in silence. The sun had begun to set and the sky was rapidly changing colours.  

 Fury nodded as they entered the room and they both took a seat at the long table. Unusually, they were the last ones to arrive, but they were far from late. Steve smiled to those who were already seated. Fury walked to the front of the room and clapped to dim the lights. A hologram beamed on the wall behind him.

 "Evening, initiates,” Fury started. "First of all, I would like to remind you that this is your first mission, and to not get too carried away. _Remember your training._ "

A few nodded.  

"Secondly, this is an extraction only. If all goes to plan, you should have very little need for weapons." He swiped in the air and the projection changed slides. "What you are extracting is some extremely pertinent information for our cause. The drive with this information is located within a safe, connected to a computer system. If we change any line of code, an alarm will sound, so we have to unlock it manually."

 He swiped again. A map appeared. 

"You'll have a map on your memobands to navigate you to the correct room. Once inside, all you will have to do is enter a five-digit key code and it will unlock."

"Sir?" Something wasn't adding up.

"Yes, Rogers?"

"If the information is so vital, why is there only a simple key code to get in?"

"I suspect they don't understand how important that drive is. It is also almost impossible to decrypt."

Before Steve could object further, Fury turned his focus back to the hologram. He clapped and the lights became brighter, the hologram faded. Steve felt uneasy with how quickly Fury had changed topics. He was hiding something, but this was a secret military operation, it was literally in the name. Still, the feeling didn't settle as Fury ordered everyone to move out. Steve followed his team into the waiting hovercraft, the engine started but it was completely silent. Inside, several seats with intricate harnesses were placed along the edge. Steve strapped in and soon they were up in the air, filled with apprehension. He could feel it bouncing off the metal. It caught in his throat and he tried to swallow it down. It was contagious, Steve hadn't been feeling too nervous but now, caught next to people who were—he couldn't help it.

The landing was thankfully smooth, they parked a little way from the building in a field of dead grass. No, not dead, flattened and depleted. The blades were completely bent over as if abruptly squashed.

_That's not important at the moment… breathe._

Steve watched the stillness. It dulled his surroundings into a gentle hum. The sound of unbuckling straps broke the silence. Daisy was the first up, she took one of the standard guns off the stand. The rest of the team finished gearing up. Rumlow grabbed two, he holstered the both of them.

Steve broke away from the window just as Maria holstered hers. “Those things on stun?”

“Sure are.” Maria walked next to the hanger door.

“ _Sir,”_ Daisy drawled with a flicker of a smile.

Bobbi slung two batons across her back and stood by Maria. The door lowered and extended into a ramp and Steve stepped onto the sunken grass.

With everyone out, the ship shimmered before the cloaking settled. Steve strode off onto the beaten track and the team dropped into synchronized steps behind. Treading carefully they soon came to the building shown on Fury's slide. He saw the entrance through which they planned to enter. He signalled behind and pointed to the entrance. They all nodded and crouched lower. Something didn’t feel right. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Steve pushed on, Sam came up next to him and matched his pace. They reached the door soundlessly and opened it with caution, only to find a dark and deserted corridor. On their right was a staircase, faithful to the map. Steve's memoband glowed in the darkness, pulsing the route on the inside of his arm. He didn't need to check that it was the correct staircase. Deeper into the building, the light soon disappeared until the only thing Steve was going off was the glowing from the memoband. He opened the door at the very end to find an equally dark room on the other side. Steve tapped his memoband twice and it emitted a faint glow. It was just enough light to make out a table with a safe but no computer in sight. Steve walked through the door and instantly the floor and walls pulsated a blue light. It was reacting to his footprints. With every step, another wave of light pulsed. He realized with a jolt, that this was the computer. All around them was dormant machinery, and it was slowly waking up.

Steve inhaled. "Okay, that has undoubtedly sent an alarm to whoever runs this place, so we don't have much time. Enter the code and let's get out of here."

He needed the urgency, needed to stay on high alert. This whole mission was screaming _WRONG_ in his head. Nothing connected.

Steve motioned toward two of his team members. "You both stand guard. Let us know if you hear anything, and I mean _anything_."

Bobbi walked towards the safe and punched in the code.

**_ERROR_ **

"I don't understa—“ she started.

"Try again," Steve said, urgently.

**_ERROR_ **

He entered it himself.

**_ERROR_ **

_Shit, shit_ , "Shit."

"Okay." Steve smoothed back his hair. Judging by the appearance of the building and where it was situated, it probably had a basic alarm system which meant they had about nine more minutes until they were surrounded. Alarmingly, the rest of the team was looking towards him.

"Well, let's just take the whole damn thing!" Rumlow interrupted, impatiently.

He walked over to the table and before Steve could say otherwise, pulled the box. The motion sent another surge of blue light around the room and the box remained in its place.

"Let's _not,_ " Steve said, exasperated.

_Eight minutes._

Steve moved closer to the walls where the surges originated. Wires bulged behind the thin material. He ran his fingers across the wires, and they reacted to his touch. He circled the boundary and counted twenty-six wires spaced evenly around the room.

“Twenty-six, why twenty-six?" Steve asked, urgently under his breath. Panic was setting in and it was quickly clouding his mind.

"Twenty-six what?" Maria questioned.

Steve turned to face the group who all wore the same confused expressions.

Steve took a deep breath. "There are countless wires surrounding this room and only twenty-six glow blue, why?"

_Seven minutes._

The fog surrounded him, suffocating his mind. Steve mentally slapped himself.

“ _Letters?_ " Steve said suddenly, partially unconvinced with his own conclusion. "Twenty-six letters, for twenty-six wires?”

"What?" Maria still wore the same expression. Meanwhile, everyone else remained silent.

Daisy widened her eyes. "Oh god, this whole thing is a padlock.”

“Exactly, which means, the lock on the box is a diversion,” Steve confirmed.

_Six minutes._

"Okay, so each number represents a letter." He stared down at his memoband unnecessarily. The stress already guaranteed he would remember the code.

“ _Steve,_ " it was Sam, who was surprisingly calm, "how do we know if it's a two and five and not twenty-five or something?"

"We don’t.” Steve looked back."But maybe that's the point."

"Wait, we do know!" it was Bobbi this time. "Look at how the code is on the memoband, it's broken up. Each number is separated."

It was true, up until now, Steve hadn't seen the significance but it made sense. He felt the fog gently lifting with every second.

Running round methodically he touched each wire and whispered, "Six, one, twenty-five."

The box remained shut.

_Five minutes._

"So, if this happened to be the most valuable piece of information you had..." Steve thought out loud. "You wouldn't want one person to just be able to take it with a simple code."

“Fury said they wouldn’t know the value, though?” Sam questioned.

Steve rubbed his palm against his forehead. It was true, the General had made it out that whoever had the information would be oblivious. Steve added it to the growing list of things that didn’t add up.

One of the men Steve placed on guard peeked their heads through the doorway, "I think I hear footsteps!"

"Uh, okay," Steve started pacing. "You'd need a team. A team is harder to sneak in." He paused.

So many ideas were desperately straining to join in his head. It was a complex system they were standing in, meaning Fury had been very wrong.

"But, if you had enough people..." he stopped pacing abruptly. "I need three other people. I _think_ this lock is designed so each number has to be entered at the exact same time."

 

Bobbi, Sam and Maria stepped forward and Steve guided them each to a wire. He then went to his own wire and hovered his hand above it

"On my mark, three... two... one!"

The four placed their hands on top of the wires which glowed rhythmically. Steve glanced at the box which to his immense relief, clicked open.

_Four minutes._

Inside, a small black drive sat in the middle. Steve snatched it up then without wasting any more time, he ran for the door. The others didn't need a second invitation and were on his heels in an instant.

"Move out!” he half-whispered.

How long did they have before a mass of guards came rushing down these same steps? Before they took one look at the team and shot them on the spot? Could they even get out the same way they came in? They had to, it was the only way out.

Steve headed up the stairs cautiously. His heart was racing, it was deafening now. He couldn't hear himself think. Couldn't decide whether this was worse than the fog that had swallowed his mind just minutes prior. He paused behind the door at the top of the staircase and listened. It was too silent. He sighed and in one motion, opened the door. The hallway was empty; for the moment, but Steve saw a light come on down a crossing corridor.

_Three minutes._

Voices cut through the layers of silence. Steve flinched, they were so close now. His breathing quickened. On his memoband, his heart rate monitor flashed warningly.

Breathe.

He held the door open and signalled to the others to go ahead. They all rushed out, one after another not daring to go in front. As the last operative came through, Steve looked back and at that second, a troop of guards came round the corner. Only they weren't in gear, they were in street clothes. They held up guns but Steve could tell that most didn't know how to use one.

_Time’s up._

He didn't wait to find out how good their aim was, however. He slipped through the door and started sprinting. He brushed past his team who immediately quickened their pace to match his. They made it up the hill before any shots fired. Steve glanced back to find the people chasing them rush through the doorway. He picked up his pace and waved towards where he remembered the plane was parked. It shimmered to signal its location and the engine silently fired up. They made it up the ramp and Steve didn't waste any time shutting the entrance. It closed with a satisfying clunk. Steve took several deep breaths and steadily made his way up to the front. The pilot nodded and started pulling up. Steve looked out through the tinted windshield. The people who had been chasing his team now urgently scanned the empty field.

The plane lifted off seamlessly and he watched as they glided through the air with little resistance. The weightlessness helped calm his delayed nerves. His body was still on high alert, but he could feel the tension already slipping away. He walked back to the rest of the seats and buckled himself in.

Once they were back on the ground, they were all required to meet in the mission room. Everyone headed over in complete silence, though it wasn’t heavy, it was filled with relief.

Fury looked as if he hadn't moved, perhaps he hadn't. He turned in his seat as they all entered.

"Mission report?"

Steve found the drive in his pocket and placed it on the table. Fury raised an eyebrow not hiding his surprise.

"Any difficulties, Rogers?"

Steve let out a short laugh."Several."

"How so?"

"The lock was just  _slightly_ more complicated than just a key code," he said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"I'm sure I'll read all about it in your written report," he said ignoring the tone of the comment. Fury tapped onto his memoband. "I've sent you the template for your report, I need it within a few days."

Steve's own memoband pinged, notifying him of the message, “Yes, sir.”  


_Mission Report: 23 August 2298_

_Entry submitted by: Steve G. Rogers_

_As a basic extraction mission the implementation went smoothly, given it was the team’s first assignment. Landing went well and……_

Steve started several times on the entry line. He was trying to keep it concise while not missing out any details; which was harder than expected with the deep distrust that had set in since returning.

_….To dissuade teams such as ours from entering the base, the lock required four members to work together to open the safe. So should a solo individual decide to acquire the object they would be unable to. The organization that had the drive in their possession hoped that with the difficulty of infiltrating a base as a team unnoticed, it would greatly increase the security of the item…._

Sam had already gone to bed several hours prior and left Steve alone in the darkness of the living room. Caught up in finishing his report, Steve hadn’t bothered to switch on a light. He now sat typing furiously in midair onto his memoband. He paused, unsure on how to form his last sentence.

Despite the luminous street lights outside and the faint storm of dust in the air, the stars were able to outshine both. They shone brilliantly through the dust cloud, unhindered by the spray in the air. The humming lights were no match for the stars as they contrasted vividly against the blackness of the sky. Steve felt a strange calm pass over him as he sat in the early hours of the morning completely awake. The night’s show across the sky drew him in. He was unable to feel tired with such a view.

_…As a first mission, it was pleasingly successful and the team was able to extract the object without any casualties and few complications._

Steve then signed his name and sent it off to Fury. A few minutes later he received a confirmation message and then he was free to go to bed; not that he felt like sleeping, but he had training later that morning, so forced himself away from the window. He soon felt his eyes get heavy, as if the stars had given him energy to stay awake but only it only lasted when he was in their presence. He drifted off in no time once it completely wore off.

 

**~**

 

After that Steve was hardly apart from the team. He understood why. To encourage cohesion, but now that his energy was divided between twelve instead of just one, he was starting to feel the effects.

One of the only areas that was constantly available was the training area and so, though it wasn’t required, Steve found himself there in the late hours one evening.

He’d never felt more out of sync. Even his first day had gone better. His blows were clumsy, his fists slipped against the bag. They were far from lacking in intensity, however. Steve made sure every frustration he could grab at came out in his punches. Steve had tried not to let it eat away at him, but he couldn’t ignore the strangeness surrounding the mission and base where the drive had been held.

He continued until it was as if he was watching himself punch in slow motion. Packing away everything took longer from how dead his arms felt. Steve left feeling only a slight release of tension.

The hallway lights were far darker than their regular brightness, and it was extremely quiet. Steve stopped in his tracks. The base felt more eerie when it was silent. He heard no distant footsteps and no nearby voices. He would almost go as far to say it was deserted, but this was a secret base and Steve wasn’t that naive.

Steve shifted his weight, undecided. He looked both ways. He should just go home. He licked his lips and hummed, annoyed at his own curiosity before slowly turning in the opposite direction of the exit.

He found himself in a corridor that he had never been before. Not that it was hard to find one of those. He guessed he hadn’t even seen a fifth of the place. He wandered aimlessly for several minutes until his eyes landed on a name on a door. It was Durami’s office. A soft beep stopped him from turning the handle. So it was print-sensitive, but locks like that always had a failsafe. He felt the wall next to the frame and found a bump. Steve pressed it and it slid to show a simple keyhole. Smart, not many people knew how to pick a lock anymore. Steve felt for anything on him that would help him when he remembered the clip he used to keep together his sport wrap. He fished it out and quickly bent it straight. Surprisingly, once he manoeuvred in the hole, he soon heard a faint click. The door steadily swung open.

There weren't any lights on and Steve kept it that way. Instead, he used the flashlight on his memoband and shone it across the room. It was a large office, with a view of the training grounds below. A desk sat at one edge with a transparent screen hanging in front. Holoscreens of data had been placed in a vintage-looking cabinet. Most of them were unlocked, except for a select few he found hidden in the mix.

One was an agent’s file. A small photo hovered in the corner, but the name of whose it was had been blacked out. The words _TOP PRIORITY_ stared back _._ The file was also excessively large. Steve put it back and took out another locked file. This one was just a list of projects but no information on what they were about.

So why lock it?

He carefully placed it back into the cabinet and turned to leave when he came face-to-face with Peggy Carter.

“Evening, Rogers,” she set her jaw, “anything I can help you find?”

He was completely lost for words for he had no excuse he could pull off. He was never a good liar and something told him Peggy would be able to see right through it anyway.

“This office is off-limits, but you already knew that from the fact that it was locked,” Peggy said. Her voice was not unkind, nor accusatory, merely questioning. “You won’t find anything useful here anyway, most of those are dummy files.”

Steve finally found his voice, “That’s a lot of security for useless files.”

She gave an artful smirk and looked at him slantways. “Worked on you.”

Nothing came of the incident. Peggy never once brought it up with him and as far as he knew, nobody else, either.

 

**~**

 

Steve was lost within the simulation, the only thing to hang onto was Carter’s voice. It was a constant tone in a mess of noise. He drowned out the shots around him. He was back-to-back with Sam, and he could feel Sam’s breathing through the layers of gear, it was ragged like his own. He tried to sync with him as their shoulders brushed, constantly turning in a tight circle; seeking out the fake enemies among their teammates. It was so damn realistic. Another shot rang out and a hologram disappeared. Sam shoved Steve to the side and shot another.

“Thanks,” Steve said with a quirk of his lips.

“Wouldn’t want you getting shot with fake bullets now would we?” Sam quipped, returning the smile.

Steve pressed his back on one of the obstacles and fired a quick shot round the corner before replying. “That could hurt.”

“Almost definitely.”

Since becoming initiates in the same division as well as roommates, Steve had grown closer to Sam. He was one of the only people who Steve felt he could trust. In a program made for keeping secrets, it was calming to have at least one person to freely talk to.

In an instant, they were moving as one again but it wasn’t long before the simulation cut out, unfinished.

It was then when he noticed every other team’s sim had stopped too. Steve looked over to Peggy who showed no signs of surprise on her face but did so within her walk.

“Agent Carter, may I borrow your division for a while?” Durami smiled but it was more sinister than anything.

“Training doesn’t end for another half an hour, you can wait till then.” She didn’t return the smile.

“It wasn’t a question _Agent.”_

_“_ Then don’t word it as one.”

“Attention!” She cut him off before he could reply, “Director Durami is cutting this short and you are hereby released from all remaining training for today.”

“How generous of you,” Durami uttered.

Durami continued. “I see that your division is working exceptionally well and that’s wonderful to see, but we don’t just want exceptional agents, we want a team that works in complete harmony.” “A team that can extend complete trust to each member.”

“That is why during your recent training after the success of your mission we have been conducting aptitude tests of each of you, I am here today to take you to the first session of your individualized training.”

Several agents appeared alongside the Director. Each went to a member of Steve’s division. Durami moved towards Steve and signalled for him to follow. Once they were alone Durami turned to Steve. “We have devised that you would best suit the role of leader. Should everything go as we expect, we plan to instate you as Captain of your division.”

“My aptitude tests were able to show that?”

“Not singularly, we’ve been able to observe leadership tendencies in the training simulations also.”

They arrived at a set of double doors and Durami paused momentarily. “This is where it really begins,” He placed his hands against the them and pushed them both open.

Steve followed down a set of stairs. They led into a large room painted with a starkly white. The change in lighting was instant. An array of equipment was stacked neatly on top of the rows of tables. Steve could see nothing obviously wrong with the environment, but still it sent a pit in his stomach.

Durami didn’t slow his pace, it seemed as if there was somewhere else that he wished to lead. Steve walked a few paces behind. He didn’t particularly want to look further into what had thrown him off balance, but he found himself looking around anyway.

They passed a set of smaller rooms off to the side. Most were empty but they appeared to be medical clinics. A small window allowed a passerby to peer in. Steve was about to look away when he caught sight that one was in fact occupied.

He stopped in his tracks almost not believing it. It was the man. The man from the file, the one from Durami’s office. Steve was reminded of the _TOP PRIORITY_ label that had been at the top. The man sat in a chair, his arms and legs clapped. His left arm, hit with the fluorescent lights, glimmered slightly. It was metal, made up of a series of intricate plates.    

Durami clocked that Steve was no longer following him and walked back to his side. “Ah, you’ve caught a glimpse of our science division in action.” His tone was too light.

Steve hadn’t glanced away. “What are they doing?”

“A volunteer research project to analyze the best way we can adapt, amongst other things.”

“You need restraints for volunteers?”

“Well, while some volunteer, those who can see and understand the big picture, others are drafted. Either way, they or their families are heavily compensated for their efforts.”

Steve nodded, hiding everything he was feeling internally. “What are we adapting to?”

“The Earth’s atmosphere is changing, and soon they way we’re living won’t be enough. Our bodies won’t be able to handle it.”

Steve felt Durami’s gaze drilling into his side.

“Let’s face it, we’re already feeling the pressure. Starvation levels are at their highest, for one. One of the project’s goals is to find a way to slow down our metabolism enough to last on smaller amounts of food while also maintaining similar energy levels.”

Durami set off down the hall again. Not giving a second glance to the room. He’d barely given one to begin with.

“May I see?”

Durami paused. Steve watched how his entire posture stiffened. “Your priority in this fight lies elsewhere, Agent.”

“I was only interested in how they are able to test.”

He finally turned, his posture returning normal. “Perhaps your aptitude test was incorrect, then again, only a leader would persist with such ease.”

Durami knocked on the door which got the attention of both the scientist and the man in the chair. The door slid open.

Steve locked eyes with the man. He fixated on Steve. Steve needed to look away. He didn’t.

“You look the same as I did.” It was barely a whisper. The man’s blue-grey eyes peered through the thick strands of hair.

“Sorry?”

“Nothin,” he grunted.

The man finally broke off, his hair most of his face again. Steve frowned, but said no more.    

“Dr Erskine, this is Agent Rogers. He is to become captain of our newest division,” Durami said, ignoring the man. Ignoring him too intently. Durami had his back completely turned away, it wasn’t unusual, but the determination in which he stood was.  

The doctor extended his hand. Steve took it distractedly.

“What can I do for you, Agent?” His voice was even and his tone open.

Durami answered before Steve could open his mouth.

“Rogers was intrigued at how you approach the tests in preparation for our adaptation.”

Steve found himself staring again. There was something about the man’s posture, they way the clamps were pressed right up against his skin. The fact that there were restraints at all.    

Dr Erskine surveyed him for a moment before turning back to his holoscreen. “Of course, how can I turn down a curious mind? Are you generally interested in science?”

“Not particularly,” Steve said. The doctor swiped away a page, “but we’re all on the same side here and I’m interested in your method on how we can stay on the ground.”

Steve caught a movement in his periphery. It was ever so slow, but it was sure. The man flicked at the palm of his left hand with his thumb. Steve watched out of the corner of his eye. A thin panel opened and the man tugged at the contents.

“Well said.” The man glanced up at the continued conversation. “It’s all in the blood. We test how the serum reacts in the subject's body by measuring it in their blood.”

The man gave a quick glance towards Steve. He did a double take when he noticed Steve was already looking. The man paused, surveying Steve’s reaction.

Steve looked pointedly at the doctor.  “How many samples have you collected so far?”

He tilted his head. “The exact number, I’m not entirely sure. The project has been running for years, but there are four samples that are the most promising.”

“You’re close then?”

“Unfortunately it has proven more difficult than we’d hoped, even with the breakthroughs. We still have a long way to go.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Steve turned to Durami, giving only a fleeting glance towards the man in the chair. He now gripped something in his palm. His fist was curled around it tightly. Steve gestured to the exit. “Shall we?”

“Has that satisfied your curiosity enough, Rogers?”

“Plenty,” A mistrust had begun to root itself deep in his heart. It was something he suspected would be difficult to shake. He turned for a last time. “Thank you for you time, Dr Erskine.”

The doctor nodded once.

“You’d make a revered Director, I’ll give you that,” Durami said once the door had slid shut.

Steve kept quiet.

They made it to the end of the hallway and it opened into an endless glass tower.

“I didn’t see this from the exterior.” Steve wondered aloud.

“I’d hope not. Our stealth technology was extended to this part of the building to keep prying eyes averted.”

Durami called the elevator and it arrived in a matter of seconds. Inside he scanned the inside of his wrist before selecting the top floor.

“Where are we going?” Steve watched through the glass as the ground got smaller and smaller.

“I’ve arranged for you to work alongside some fellow captains, current and prospective. General Fury will be overseeing you.”

The elevator doors opened with a ping. Durami gestured towards another set of doors. “This is where I leave you.” He started to turn away.”

“Sir?”

“Yes, Rogers,” He said with a hint of impatience.   

“Back at the lab,” Durami glimpsed sideways, he didn’t turn fully, “what did that man mean, ‘you look the same as I did?’”

There was a pause.

The Director faced him again. “He was a draftee. His system had just taken in a foreign substance. It was likely a side-effect of the serum, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

The words _TOP PRIORITY_ burned in his mind. “Yes, sir.”

Steve adjusted his posture and entered the room.


	2. Hide and Seek

**July, 2283**

Steve was standing in one of the many hallways that led to the bedrooms. The house itself was like a maze, a crumbling one at that. He wasn't sure just how old the structure was but somehow, it had stayed upright for over two centuries, despite it being made of brick. Old carvings spiralled across the walls, the ones outside intentional. The sketches on the inside walls had been made by the many children always coming and going. Most would only stay for short periods, a week at most, others however, would spend months or even years there.

Being one of the kids who stayed long-term, Steve knew the maze well, maybe even better than anyone who lived there. So looking for the group of hide-and-seekers was never a difficult task. In midst of searching for the fourth kid, Leski, one of the guardians, appeared round the far corner.

Leski had her hair up in a tight bun and wasn’t wearing her usual slack clothes. Instead she was dressed in one of her best suits, which meant only one thing: another kid had arrived to stay.

“Ah, hello Steve,” she smiled. “Could you call to the other children? There’s somebody you all need to meet.”

“If I knew where they all where, it wouldn’t be hide and seek,” he said, simply.

Leski smiled again. “ _Steve.”_

Steve sighed and turned on the spot. “I surrender!” he called, reluctantly.

The soft patter of shoes against the tiled floor was instant as the hiding spots were revealed.  

“ _Steve, what happened?_ You _never_ surrender a game,” one kid drawled. Steve opened his mouth with a frown.

“And that record still stands, as it was me who requested it,” Leski interrupted.

The kids turned to face her, but she only gestured to follow. They were deep in the house when they were playing and it took several minutes to make their way to the entrance and Leski’s office. Standing there, was a small boy, with short, dark hair, whose bright eyes were darting around the room, until, they landed on Steve.  

 

**~**

 

**September 2298**

“It has come to our attention, that the test subject numbers don't match up on our records.”

Steve felt his stomach drop as a hologram of a man’s face was plastered on the wall. The same face that had stared back at him in the chair just a couple weeks before.

“This draftee is missing, but not only that, he left with some extremely vital blood samples and it is imperative that we get them back. We already have two other divisions searching, but we would like yours to begin as well.

“We need to bring the subject back into custody, and do so quickly.”

Steve bristled.

The calm-unwavering tone of the Director prickled on the back of his neck. Steve had had enough of his vague speeches.  

“On that note, each division requires a leader, someone to keep the cohesion within the team.” Durami planted both arms on the end of the table. “Rogers?” he gave a hard gaze and Steve snapped his head up in reply. “You up for the challenge?”

All eyes were suddenly on Steve and he stiffened. He met Durami’s stare and rolled back his shoulders.

The memory of the resignation and eerie calm the man in the lab had, drowned Steve into silence. The way he had locked eyes with him, the single bulb from the room changing the soft tint of his unnervingly composed eyes. The gruffness in which he’d spoken to Steve and the words he’d said. Mostly it was the eagerness that Durami had shown to keep Steve away from it all.

“Absolutely, sir,” he replied.

“That’s what I like to hear.” As he smiled, he almost looked proud _._ “Effective immediately, Steve Rogers is now Captain of this division and I hope you extended the same respect towards him as you do to me.” Durami clapped a hand onto Steve’s back, Steve did his best to suppress the shudder which followed.

The Director leaned in close. “Do whatever needs to be done to get this man back into our custody. You lead this team now, I trust you’ll take the steps that are necessary.”

Steve didn’t react.

Durami stood higher and gestured to the holoscreen behind him speaking now to the whole division. “He has taken _years_ of our research in a matter of minutes. We cannot get that time back.”  

 

**~**

  

“I heard about your promotion,” Dr Erskine said. “I could tell when we met the other day you had the disposition for it.”

Steve simply nodded. “Thank you.”

“What can I do for you this time, Captain?” The doctor sat back behind his desk. Steve remained standing.

“What can you tell me about the target?”

“”The draftee? I’m sure it’s not a lot more than what the Director has discussed with you.”

“The Director hasn’t spent time in a lab with him.”

“And what would my medical data help with?” He tilted his head, the same passive face.

“You must have samples, someway to track a name or a last known address?”

“I’m afraid not, he took the only sample we took with him in one of those vials.”

Steve tried to read his expression. He had kind eyes, open. It was so different from how he now held himself. Was he really in the dark just as Steve was or did he know about the file in the office? Was he just as deep in as Durami?

Steve hooked his thumbs into his belt loop. “Sorry for wasting your time, Doctor.” He nodded and went to leave. A notification pinged on his memoband.

“These were the coordinates we picked him up,” Dr Erskine replied. “I apologize that’s all I could give you.”

Steve glanced back and something stopped him from responding right away. On the shelf sat a case filled with four vials of blood.

Steve faced the doctor once more. “Thank you again.”

He didn’t wait to get a reply.

 

**~**

 

“This is the location from the intel I was given.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth. Steve had got them to land a bit further from the coordinates. He had some of his own questions to ask before the whole team could get near the target. Steve stood at the entrance of the hovercar. It was up to him to make the decisions now and he didn’t want any one of his team getting caught up in whatever Durami was hiding.

“We don’t know what we’re walking into so you’ll split up into two groups of four and a group of three.”

He stared at the eleven fresh-faced agents who were all relying on him. To know what’s best, to guide them towards another successful mission. He wasn’t sure he could do either.

Sam, Maria, and Daisy were the most competent. Each leaders in their own right. Maria brought the calm and collectedness he saw in Peggy. Daisy had a spark and a tenacity that was unrivalled by anyone he knew, and Sam, well Sam knew what was right even in with the most grey decisions.

“Maria, your team will sweep to the West, Daisy, take the East and Sam move to the North. Meet back to the middle and keep in contact.” Steve moved to release the hatch. “Being subtle will be key here.”

“Isn’t he supposed to just be a civilian?” Daisy asked. She took a gun and holstered it at her side.

“He managed to break out of a military base, something tells me he knows we’re coming.”

It had been three weeks now since they started the search, and there was still no sign of the target. Nobody from Steve’s division had been close with their leads and even his were drying up. The man had left no trace to his whereabouts. Steve had followed a lead a week and a half ago, but it was a dead end. Instead, it led him to sitting on a roof ledge for two hours watching a bustling city. Pretty, but free from any runaways.

Steve slowly trailed back to the shabby hotel where he’d taken residence, and trudged up the creaking stairs. He fumbled in his jacket and fished out the key. It didn't even have fingerprint authorization.

Once he had the door open, Steve stopped dead in his tracks. Across the wall, in a bright hologram, was a message.

 

_DROP YOUR SEARCH. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING._

 

After several seconds, the words vanished and Steve scrambled to find the source. But as he predicted, there was nothing. Steve knew his tech, but this guy knew what he was doing and according to him, Steve didn’t.

Despite that, Steve still had a target to find, only now he would have to be more cautious. He thought he was doing well on the whole low profile thing, but evidently not enough to avoid somebody more than just a civilian. But this message meant he was getting close to both the target _and_ to having the advantage. It did also mean the guy had most likely packed his bags and gone deeper undercover, but Steve couldn’t think about that at the moment.

He opened up a secure page on his memoband and scanned for any devices in proximity. It picked up one other that wasn’t his. Meaning, this was to scare him. To let him know that they had been to his place and knew where he was staying. He tracked the message itself to an address in Serbia, which meant either Steve was wildly off with his lead or more likely, the guy had used a proxy server.

Nothing happened, and then everything did. All at once, following weeks of silence. Steve was still roaming the streets, stubbornly staying in the same city in spite of having no follow-up from the ominous message he’d received. With no leads to follow, he lost himself in the crowded town, mostly staying in the hotel room, only leaving for a supply run.

He was sitting mindlessly, sketching on the table, which he was sure if he didn’t erase later was going to get charged for, when his memoband showed movement. Steve did a double take when the blue dot appeared on the screen. It had a different server than the one that showed up in Serbia but it was the same technology—a technology that was extremely expensive, therefore extremely rare. He knew better to believe it was a mere coincidence. He also knew that the target was too smart to reveal himself like that, which left one possibility; it was a trap. But Steve needed an explanation. Unless the guy was just going to shoot him on the spot, but he could have done that anyway. He knew where Steve was staying.

Steve double-tapped the screen and the signal transferred to his memoband. He was still geared up; nowadays he didn’t take his tac gear off till the end of the day. He grabbed the gun off the table and quickly holstered it as he opened the hotel room door.

The address the signal was coming from wasn't far away, surprisingly. Steve walked through the streets bordered by worn buildings, until the hologram showed he was right on the blue dot.

He looked up to find a particularly shabby building. Most of the upper level windows were shattered. The glass that remained was covered in grime and splintered beyond repair. Inside wasn’t any better. The wooden staircase looked as if it was about collapse. Three of the fifteen steps had completely caved in. Steve took care as he walked up, testing each step before he put his full weight on it. Hung on the wall beside the staircase were several now empty picture frames, the glass was also shattered.

As he reached the last step, Steve pulled out his gun and listened for any movement from the other side of the door. No such luck. It sounded as deserted as it looked. Steve sighed inwardly and slowly turned the knob. Once it was unlatched he pushed it open all the way and brought his gun up. As suspected, the room it revealed was empty.

Steve took a tentative step through the door and waited.

“I’m not here to kill you, I just want to talk,” Steve called, and then did something slightly reckless and highly unplanned. He chucked his gun to the floor. Steve watched as it skidded to a stop in the middle of the room.

There was barely a pause before a figure came into view and snagged the gun. “Well, that just makes it easier for me then.”

Before he knew what was happening, a hand had grabbed his shoulder and Steve was shoved into a battered looking chair. The person he faced was far from who he expected. Aside from the gun jammed between his eyes, the most attention grabbing detail was the mass of long red curls. The woman stared with an intimidating grace and fierceness.

“I don’t have a lot of time here, so spit it out,” she clicked the gun. “What the fuck did you do with it?”

Steve frowned. “What?”

“You think that’s going to work? Playing games doesn’t work, they never work with me. I know the moves before they’re played.”

“Now, where’s the damn hard drive?”

Realization dawned on him. “You think I keep that kind of thing on me?”

“Nah, but I know for a fact you are aware of its location.”

“Have you been following me? How did you know to use that technology?”

She gave a quick glance towards the seemingly empty table and knitted her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’re really in a position to be the one asking questions,” she said looking back to Steve.

He shrugged. “Just curious, if this is my last conversation, I wanna know a few things.”

“It’s really up to you if this is your last conversation.”

“Says the one holding the gun.”

“I have a deadline to keep, so if you’re not going to tell me, just say it now.”

It was impressive how she kept her cool, despite the nature of her questions. It was as if she was merely asking for the time.

“It’s a real shame that you’re in a rush, ‘cause, I could do this all day,” Steve said, with just a start of a smirk.

“Last chance, soldier.” She clicked the safety off her gun.

“How about,” Steve considered, not a hundred percent sure what he was doing, “I tell you where it is, and you, tell me what’s on it?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“You think I’d be using it to bargain for my life if I did?”

The same knitted features appeared on her face, confusion etched in her frown. Steve took his chance with her hesitation. He made a move to the gun and knocked it out of her palm. It fired and shards of wood went flying. The woman reacted immediately and landed a kick against his side. The wind was knocked out of him as he hit the floor. In the momentary silence, through his still ringing ears, he heard a crackle of a voice and a split-second later noticed the earpiece. Steve sprung to his feet and was about to drive a punch when she leapt, without hesitation, out of the window. Steve ran over, only a few steps away and peered down to the street. It was already thoroughly empty.

  

**~**

 

**July 2283**

The boy kept staring, seemingly unable to break his gaze away from Steve. Steve smiled and the boy tentatively quirked the side of his lips. That only made Steve smile more and the boy matched the smile in turn, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes.

“This is Bucky,” Leski said. “He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

She then turned to face the group and bent down. “Steve, can you help Bucky with his bag?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the backpack off the floor which turned out to be considerably heavier than it looked.

“Thanks,” Bucky said with another sideways smile as he fell into Steve’s pace. Their shoulders brushed.

They walked silently as they both made their way to one of the many empty bedrooms. Steve had never been great at first introductions or breaking the ice. Which is exactly why he suspected Leski had asked him to lead. She now trailed behind them both and he felt her expectation on the back of his neck.

The three of them arrived at a room that like every other bedroom, had space for two people. A single bed was pushed on either side of the room with a closet at the end of both. A window and a small desk was the only thing that separated the other furniture.  

“You’ll be staying here alone as everybody else here has a roommate,” Leski announced. Bucky just looked around the room and slowly, nodded. “Just let me know if you want to switch, I’m sure I can find someone to change with you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, thank you,” Bucky replied in a tone that told everybody that he was very capable and independent—thank you very much.

The first couple of days, Bucky kept to himself. He seemed happy enough to be on his own for the most part, although, every so often, Steve would see something else behind his eyes. Something other than the confident twelve-year-old he showed the outside world. Steve had seen it so many times with the other kids who came to stay, but his was laced with guilt. That wasn’t common at the house. Sorrow, longing, grief mostly, but rarely guilt.

It was one searing hot evening when he approached Steve again. Steve was perched on a bean bag in front of the towering expansive windows. The last of the sunlight streaming in, the sky was quickly going through the colour palate. He was thinking about how wonderful it would be to paint, if he were alone. For now, he was. But at any moment, one of the other kids could walk in, so instead he just watched it pass him by.

Before the last of the darkness and stars took over, Bucky sat on the bean bag beside him. Steve had been so captivated by the particular vividness of the evening, that he didn’t hear him approach. Bucky didn’t say anything, as he placed a mug beside Steve and sipped from his own. Steve tried to make a mental snapshot of the view for later. He would have taken a photo, except, the cameras never could capture the same colours as his mind could. Bucky was watching him, just in the corner of his eye.

Steve took the mug once the last of the soft tint had disappeared and the sky had taken its black and deep blue hue. “Thanks,” he smiled.

“No problem,” Bucky said as his shoulder bumped Steve’s. Steve wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. They sat in silence like that for a while. Overhead, the stars began to take their form for the night.

“It’s like they carefully choose which ones are going to be visible each night.” Bucky started.“Some nights one shines more than the other and then the next, you can hardly see it. Like an ever changing puzzle.”

Steve looked over, perplexed at the other boy’s wandering thoughts. It was like hearing his paintings in words. He took another sip of his cocoa, savouring the smooth, creamy taste.

Even when both cups were empty, neither of them moved. Steve settled in the deep cushion of the bean bag and Bucky shortly followed suit.

The starlight soon lulled them both to sleep. Steve did nothing to try and stop it.

 

**~**

 

**2298**

Steve made his way back to the hotel room slowly. Once he arrived, he packed his things in the single backpack he’d brought with him. There was no longer any point staying, it was quite clear that the guy he was looking for was further away than he had originally assumed. He strapped everything in and slung the bag on his shoulder. He was out of the place within half an hour.

Evening was beginning to sink in and Steve needed to find a place to stay and fast. Whoever had held him at gunpoint was clearly not working alone and seemed to be highly trained. Steve would have guessed military except, she came across as much more stealthy. Truth was, she knew where he was staying and though he got out of her hold, it was an extremely close call. Standard procedure meant he needed to find a safe house, which he would usually ignore, but he was out of leads and there was no point being out in the open when he was a target himself.

To find coordinates of a safe house, he needed to open an encrypted page on his memoband, which he did in the booth of a crowded coffee house. He wasn’t sure if logging in would mean giving away his location, so being somewhere busy would give him at least a bit of an advantage. The screen showed a safe house in relative proximity. The screen asked for a login to show the exact coordinates, which he quickly entered. It came up as an error, only this was one of the defence mechanisms in case anyone else ever got their hands on the password. Steve typed it in again and then a third time. It accepted and then asked for a fingerprint which he carefully placed on the screen. Instantly the coordinates and current distance from where he was flickered into view. He memorized them and almost swiped away the page when the whole thing seemed to glitch. Once it had settled, another set of coordinates appeared only it was further away. He quickly decided to head towards that one instead and ignored the rising prickling that told him it was a trap.

Steve logged out and swiped away the screen, the hologram vanished and the memoband around his wrist stopped glowing.

The journey would take about five hours and Steve wasted no time to get started. He took the bus to the outskirts of the city and got off at the last stop, by which time he was the only one still on the bus. It was dark when the bus pulled away and left him in the howling wind. A single street lamp flickered; the only thing that signalled it was a stop.

He trekked over the straight dust covered road through the clouded night. The directions shone faintly on the windshield. The batteries of the car only had two more hours of charge, it was an old model and Steve was just waiting for it to give out completely.

Surprisingly, he made it to the end of the road with no complications. The rest of the trip would have to be on foot since the safe house was deep in the dwindling forest ahead. Steve parked a little back from the entrance and grabbed the backpack from the seat beside him.  

Steve switched on the flashlight built into the memoband. It emitted a faint glow but it didn’t stretch far. The already scarce light quickly became shrouded by the tightly knitted trees. Steve pressed on, trying to be as silent as he could while trampling on countless brambles and fallen leaves covering the forest floor.

Eventually, he came up to the location from the hologram. The forest showed no sign of housing a building or that it ever did. Steve looked round, the forest had seemed to partially open up in the past half an hour and though he knew better to completely rely on technology, the model of memoband he had round his wrist _never_ malfunctioned. Then it clicked. The hovercar he’d been in on his first mission was cloaked. Steve took a step and another and noticed it instantly. It was only obvious this close up; unless you had been actively looking for it, the cloaking was perfect.

Steve placed his hand on the invisible wall and it looked as if it shivered. Momentarily, it was no longer hidden, looking for a split second like a stretched soap bubble. Once he took another step, a log cabin appeared, as if the wall had authorized his prints—perhaps it had.  

The building resembled a cosy log cabin at first glance, but once he was inside, Steve saw how different it really was. Though it had all the essential rooms, it also had a few extra most cabins could do without. But this wasn’t a cabin, this was a safe house, and so what some people would call additional, Steve would call vital. The building was equipped with a trip alarm round the building and a room dedicated to weapons only accessible through a retinal scan.

Steve didn’t take much time after locking up the building to slip under the covers of the queen-sized bed. He sank into the pillows with overwhelming exhaustion.

He slept for four hours before he woke up with a jolt. At first, he didn’t know what had made him jerk so suddenly, but then he heard it. It was incredibly subtle, he almost missed the second bout of footsteps before everything was silent again. Steve thought for a brief moment it was one of his teammates or an agent of another division, but the steps were too cautious, too soft for someone who was authorized to be in the building.

Steve slowly felt for the gun under his pillow and slipped onto the wooden floors quietly. The bedroom door opened easily and thankfully without a creak. He waited and listened but heard no steps, no noise at all—except for the tight, uneven breaths that he periodically let out. Taking each step with more caution than the last, Steve made his way to the ground level. From his vantage point, he saw the front door—it was firmly shut in place, each metal bolt secured into the wall.

Steve made a quick and hopefully quiet move round the corner, and it instantly made him stop in his tracks. Collapsed half on the sofa, possibly unconscious, was a man. Steve realized with a start, he was the target, and currently, bleeding out in front of him. Steve dropped his gun on the table and started frantically looking for the first aid kit. He grabbed it and hurried back into the living room.

Somehow, the guy had managed to become slumped on the floor against the front of the sofa, and now had a gun pointed at Steve. Steve looked towards the table and saw a smear of blood on the floor beside it. He’d taken Steve’s gun. It didn’t concern him too much, as the guy was fluttering in and out of consciousness even as Steve stood there. He wasn’t even sure how the guy had got in the building.

Steve took a step closer and he heard the click of the gun. As stupid as it was, he moved nearer again but the gun clattered to the floor a split second before he moved. That’s when all hesitation vanished and Steve rushed the man’s side.

Immediately, he saw where the blood was gushing from. It wasn’t a pretty sight. His right leg was quite scraped up but his left had a gaping hole just below the knee. It had already soaked his tack gear and was now seeping steadily on the floor.

Steve suspected that the bullet was slowing most of the bleeding but he needed to try and pry it out. No point saving a guy only to kill him from other damage. Steve tore open the pant leg to leave the wound exposed. It looked even worse. Thankfully, the med kit was extensively stocked and Steve quickly found the rubbing alcohol.

Steve cringed. “Sorry about this,” he said, then tipped some of the stuff over his leg. The guy woke up with a gasp as soon as it touched his skin.

“ _Fuck.”_

 _“_ That’s not even half of it,” Steve replied in what he hoped was a sympathetic tone.

In spite of everything, the guy gave half a laugh. “Figures.”

Steve could see he was barely clinging onto consciousness.

He rummaged through the kit to find both a scalpel and tweezers. A second later realized he should probably find an anaesthetic. He found two vials of it but it was heavy stuff; not at all helpful. If he gave this now, the guy may never wake up. He would have to do without. Steve looked back to find that he’d closed his eyes, Steve didn’t bother to wake him up, instead, he just continued the procedure. He took a deep breath, then, without wasting anymore time, stuck the scalpel into the wound.

Steve felt a strong grasp around his arm, gratefully, the one that wasn’t holding the tools. He saw in the corner of his eye the guy’s jaw clench but surprisingly, his breathing was relatively normal.

“I’m almost done, just hold on a bit longer,” Steve said with urgency.

It wasn’t long until his right hand felt metal on metal and he was able to dislodge the bullet. His left arm began to go numb.

As soon as the bullet was out, he dropped it to the floor and grabbed the bandage and gauze pads out of the bag. Steve slapped the gauze on and it turned red. The bleeding had quickened now that the bullet wasn’t embedded. He opened the bandage and strapped it several times round the leg.

The whole thing lasted about two minutes.

Once Steve had the leg properly bandaged, he hoisted the guy up and as best as he could got them both to the small med bay. He lifted up the lid and lay the guy on the stretcher. Steve set the machine up for stitching and skin grafting. For a world that despised cyborgs, it sure did seem like it was jealous of their capabilities.

The stitching was a thankfully seamless process, the man barely stirring. Steve then moved the grafter so it hovered over the stitches. The way the machine worked, it looked as if it was engraving metal.

About half way through, the guy started shifting. Steve got up from where he sat and from there he noticed the guy was blinking awake.

“You need to stay still okay?” Steve said when his eyes stayed open more than a second, “The grafting’s almost done.”

He didn't seem to hear, because a moment later, he jostled awake and started to panic. Steve could tell he was about to jump down, perhaps to start fighting, but leaving mid-graft could end with disastrous results. Steve placed a firm hand on his shoulders. This brought the guy to stare at Steve, the panic appearing to subside slightly. Steve tried not to think it to be a sign of trust.

The grafter hadn’t been hit. He let out a careful exhale. Now that the guy had relaxed slightly, Steve stepped back not wanting him to feel trapped at all. He closed his eyes again. Steve would have blamed it on the wound more than being more at ease with Steve.   

 

**~**

 

The first of the flickering eyelids started about five hours later.

Steve had a glass of water at the ready as he sat beside the stretcher. He’d placed a gun by his side so the guy didn’t feel totally helpless as he woke up next to a stranger. Steve knew it wasn’t the smartest of ideas but it felt right.

The guy blinked a couple of times, eventually able to keep his eyes longer than a split second. “ _Ow_ ,” he drawled. If he remembered his earlier panic, he didn’t show it.

“Here, get this down you.” Steve handed him the glass and a tablet. “It was the only stuff I could find.”

“Aren’t you meant to be killing me?”

“In theory,” Steve said.

He gave a slow nod but left it at that. He went back to his glass of water, taking measured sips. Steve could tell he was quietly observing every move Steve made—watching for any sudden movement.

“I’m Steve,” he said, trying to defuse at least a bit of the tension.

“I know.” His walls remained standing. Steve figured that the guy had done some of his own monitoring. He didn’t let it bother him.

Steve made his way to the kitchen and grabbed two meal packs. Up until now, he hadn’t felt the growing hunger.

Once they were ready, Steve walked over and pulled the table so it was closer to the stretcher. The man sat up, legs outstretched.

“James,” his voice was scratchy and he coughed in attempt to clear it.

“Sorry?”

“I’m James,” he replied.

“How are you feeling?” Steve tried.

“With or without the hole in my leg?”

Despite the situation, Steve huffed a short laugh, “Stupid question.”

Steve handed the meal pack over. James took it, his hand wavering with indecision.

It wasn’t anything fancy, like everything in the building, it existed for a purpose. Nutrition was the meals only purpose, and because of it, the bland tastes mixed into one. They ate the remainder of the meal in silence, wary of each other. Steve finished first and he went to find different clothes so James could change out of the of the blood-caked gear he was still in. The room opposite his had several t-shirts and pants in the various drawers and cabinets—most likely forgotten in the rush of leaving. He wondered how many before him had come here for shelter, how many had left unwillingly, pulled away from the momentary calm.

James had finished eating by the time he got back downstairs, and was stretched out on the sofa with a suppressed grimace.

“Here, I found these in the bedroom upstairs.”

“ _The_ bedroom?” he asked, taking the clothes with his right hand.

“ _A_ bedroom,” Steve corrected.

The start of a smirk lurked on the side of his face. “Thanks,” he said, holding up the fresh clothes. James pushed with great effort on the arm of the chair. Once upright, he paused, swaying slightly before he took his first step. Steve started moving to his side but James just waved him away until a step later when he stumbled and Steve had to catch him from smacking right into the hardwood floor.

Steve placed a hand on James’ chest. “Okay,” James paused, regaining his balance.”Maybe I’m not quite ready for full weight bearing.”

“Never would have guessed,” Steve replied, wryly.

They both hobbled to the bathroom, each with one arm hooked over the other’s shoulders. Steve managed to get them both inside and placed James on the edge of the bath. Steve was about to wait outside when James drew his attention back. He looked shy all of a sudden, maybe even embarrassed. “Could you,” he shifted, “help a bit?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” Steve replied, in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

“I don’t think the leg is the only thing that’s injured.” He shrugged. “My shoulder feels kind of messed up.”

“Alright, well one thing at a time, let’s focus on getting you out of this filthy gear first.”

Steve paused, although his tone was confident, he didn’t want James to feel uncomfortable—he wasn’t sure how much help he needed. James moved first to unbuckle the start of the thick outer gear. It didn't look dissimilar to the one Steve owned. James stopped at a point and Steve took this as his cue to move. He carefully moved the outer vest over the left shoulder first. Between the gaps, the metal plates under the mesh shirt were filled with dirt. He took the second sleeve slower while making several glances at James in the corner of his eye. James didn’t move but his jaw was clenched shut.

Steve dumped the vest in the bath once it was off and he heard James sigh. The undershirt was harder to pull off as it clung to his arms but Steve managed with only a small grumble from James.

It wasn’t the fresh purple bruises that Steve noticed first, nor the faint scars across his back, it was the gnarled and red flesh around his left shoulder. The metal dug deep into the skin and ran down his back. It was such a messy job for an impressive technology; that’s what struck him the most. Steve didn’t linger, refocusing on the more pressing injuries.

James had suddenly turned back into the passive test subject he had been in the chair back at headquarters. He'd noticed that Steve had been staring.

Steve’s heart dropped. “I’m just going to see if there’s any ice for that shoulder.”  

When he came back, James was staring ahead, but blinked abruptly when Steve came into view. Up until then, Steve hadn’t seen the rusted chain around his neck. It was the same as the one Steve wore himself.

“Found some.” Steve held up the bag of ice and gently placed it on the back of James’ right shoulder. James shuddered. Steve held it there until he was sure the skin had gone numb before grabbing the clean t-shirt. It was much quicker putting on.

With one pant legged ripped, it didn’t take long when it came to the pants. Steve was just overly careful when it came to the wound.

“Thank you,” James spoke quietly.

With great difficulty and a few pauses, they eventually made it to the top of the stairs. Then to the bedroom where James quickly climbed into bed—or as fast as he _could_ go.

“I’m just in the opposite room if you need anything.” Steve pointed to the door. James was watching the wind as it picked up and Steve saw the trees move back and forth from the crossing currents. “Okay.” James finally nodded.

Steve turned away troubled by James’ sudden distractedness.

Steve lay awake longer than usual that night; even for him. He felt the tiredness seep around his eyelids yet he could not fall asleep.

A thud roused him out of the dreary haze an hour later.  How had he known James was going to try and run? He reminded Steve so much of himself in these moments. Too stubborn to take the only help available. It’s why when he found James leant against the hallway wall, Steve just silently hoisted him onto his own side and guided him back to the bed.

“Are you spying on me?” James slurred, still dazed from the pain.

“Don't need to with all the noise you’re making,” Steve retorted.

“Look,” James sighed. “Thanks for the help, but I can make it on my own from here.”

“You can barely stand up on your own, never mind anything else.”

“You were ordered to kill me, don't blame me for not wanting to hang around,” James snapped.

Steve exhaled and started again. “I won’t stop you, I’m in no place to do that, but I’m also far from the only one with this order. If you go out there, there’s no telling who’ll find you next.”

James’ shoulders slumped. Steve _didn’t_ blame him for being wary to trust, but staying in the safe-house was the most logical thing to do.

“Okay,” James finally said. “But I’m leaving as soon as I can run.”

“Fair enough,” Steve shrugged.

James made fast progress over the next few days considering his two major injuries. He spent his time propped up in bed scrawling in a worn journal. Steve didn’t pry, he was the same with his sketchbooks. Seeing James with the book bizarrely made Steve miss his own. It had been a while since he’d thought of drawing in his sketchbooks. He usually just found space on scrap pieces of paper, and even then he only doodled.  

As the fourth day was turning to evening, Steve’s memoband lit up. It showed five trackers relatively close. They were agents, three of his own division and two, not.

“James!”

Panic set in, James was recovering but he was far from ready to run. Steve watched with growing unease as he hobbled down the stairs.

“What’s going on?” He asked, when he saw Steve’s face.

“We gotta go, I’ll tell you on the way, but we gotta move.”

James nodded. “My bag,” he gestured upstairs.

“I’ll grab it, you stuff the food packs into mine,” Steve pointed.

He took the stairs two at a time and found the backpack not dissimilar to his own. When he got back downstairs they switched the bags and made for the front door.

They ran side-by-side and soon fell into a steady pace though Steve could see James was still in pain.

“Okay, spill,” James said.

“My division, I think they've traced me and they have the same orders as me.”

“That you've studiously ignored so far.” Then he stopped dead in his tracks, as if a conclusion had just suddenly formed. “You led them to me.”

Steve felt the dread hit him like a wall and his face fell. He stopped and turned. “I didn’t know,” he said, pathetically.

“You didn’t think they would check up on you? Or that they’d find you and then take the credit away from you?” His tone had visibly altered.

“I don’t want any fucking credit! I messed up, I got trapped into an organization that I thought were helping people.”

Something changed in James’ features. They softened, ever so slightly.

Steve continued, “I understand if any sliver of trust you may have had, has gone now. But you need to run, if not with me, then alone.”

James sighed. Steve could almost see the calculations he was making. The decisions that were being made.

“I’m basing my trust in you on the sole basis that you didn’t alert the Director when I was breaking the restraints. You didn’t even know me and you still made that choice.” James huffed a laugh but it was devoid of any humour. “Better than I can say, when I joined, I thought I was changing the world, saving it even. Turns out I was just helping destroy it.”

Steve had long since noticed the dog tags hanging round his neck, tarnished in more ways than one. He’d never suspected he was a special op too. It did nothing to help his growing distrust for the program.

“What did you do, to get yourself a kill order?”

“I don’t trust you _that_ much. Now, don’t be stupid, Steve. If you run now, you won't have anything to protect you. Don’t make the same mistake, that’s not going to help anyone.”

He felt his team closing in, felt each second shortening. Eventually he nodded, and reluctant as he still was, he took out his handcuffs. Just as he saw the first of his division through the thick forest, Steve tightened them round James’ wrists.

Before anyone else was in earshot, Steve discreetly leant in and whispered, “You have no reason to believe me, but this isn't what I wanted. It was never my intention to lead them here. I don’t want to kill you, not now, not ever.”

Looking into James’ eyes, he swore he saw a slice of blame slip away. Steve’s guilt did not.

 

**~**

 

**July 2283**

One night, Steve stayed up later than bedtime. It wasn’t his first time, and it wasn’t like he was disturbing anyone. Since Steve was a long-term resident—the longest out of everyone, he was allowed his own room. He was absorbed in his sketchbook, determined to finish the drawing that night. The soft glow of his lamp stretched across the whole room and seeped under the door. He was still up half an hour later when he heard the faint click of the door. Steve paused suddenly. He knew the place well enough to know that the doors never opened on their own. He gripped his pencil a little tighter when a small face appeared. Steve let out the breath he was holding.

“What are you doing still up?” Steve whispered urgently.

“You’re the one with the light on,” Bucky replied as he slipped in and slowly closed the door. “You draw?” he asked when he was a little closer to the bed. Steve briskly shut the sketchbook and tucked it behind him.  

Bucky lifted his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it, you wanna keep the masterpieces to yourself.”

Steve frowned. “How do you know they're _masterpieces?_ _”_ He drawled.

Bucky considered this and smiled softly, “I can just tell.”

“What, is it your superpower?” Steve mocked, playfully. He was twelve, he knew very well that superpowers were impossible. Bucky plonked on the bed beside Steve, the mattress creaked in response.

“So how come you get the nice room?” Bucky asked after a pause.

“ _Because,”_ Steve sighed. “I don’t leave. Eventually, everyone else does.”

There was a pause, the silence filled with unease, or maybe that was merely what Steve picked up. He saw Bucky swallow and his eyes crease.

“I won’t,” Bucky said, softly. It was barely a murmur.


	3. A Tarnished Character

Steve had never felt more helpless in his entire life. He liked to tell himself he’d done the best he could, but beyond the words, it felt far from that. He was on the wrong side of the glass watching, powerless, at the interrogation. An interrogation he was obligated to be present for, and it was the least he could do for James.

It was after all, Steve’s fault it was even happening.

Someone entered his periphery. Steve focused ahead.

“What do you know about him?”

He bristled and quickly looked away from Peggy’s questioning eyes. “Nothing. He wasn’t really jumping at the opportunity to open up.”  

“You know,” she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head diagonally. Steve still faced forward. “I looked over the footage from the time he was in the lab.”

A chill ran up the back of his neck.

“Turns out, he has a hidden compartment in his cybernetic arm.” Her tone was strangely light.

Steve stared at the glass. He wasn’t taking anything in from the other side. “What did Durami say about it?”

She faced the glass. “He doesn’t know.”

A beat of silence. It was too loud.

“As I understand, you spoke with him that day?”

“Briefly, but yes.” Steve paused, hesitant if he should continue. As it turned out, he didn’t need to.

“It’s unfortunate that we weren’t able to save the footage before it was wiped.”

“Is there something you’re trying to hide, Agent Carter?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No more than you have.”

“If you look over every drafted test subject that’s been brought in you’ll find that hardly are without cybernetics."

He dipped his head and frowned slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying there’s another layer of secrets and Durami is trying to get everyone distracted to keep away the questions.” She sighed. “There’s a reason he was chosen as Director.”

Peggy gestured to James. “Durami was trying to get to him so he changed the parameters of the draft.”

“Because he’s on top priority?”

She smirked. “I’m not surprised you caught that. Yes, I think that’s exactly the case.”

Her lips went tight and she glanced away briefly.

“His name is James Barnes and he has been the program’s nightmare for a while now,” she continued. “Barnes was a Special Operative as well, but he got too close to the secrets. They tried to take him out for the info he’d got. This was their last try.”

Steve frowned. With each second of their conversation, the questions were piling up. “Why not just shoot him? Why the theatrics?”

“They needed it to look like a standard test. Anything else would get people asking questions.”

He looked away, sighing. It was always about the secrecy.

Steve nodded finally. “Why are you telling  _me_ this?”

“You looked right at him.” Peggy gestured towards the glass. “You saw that compartment in his arm and you didn’t say anything and I don’t think the reason was laziness.”

He gave a half-sided smile.

“Steve, this is important, you need to act like nothing has changed, that you’re still loyal. If they think you wavered they won’t hesitate to add you to the hit list.”

Steve locked his gaze with hers. She really meant it. One wrong move and he was dead. Slowly, he nodded and faced the glass again.

James was strapped in the chair—again—eyes glowering. He hadn’t said a word. Steve heard Durami heave a sigh through the speaker. “The only reason _you_ are still alive is because somehow, one of your operatives stole the hard drive back. I wouldn’t do anything to slim your chances.”

This was new information. The drive was gone which meant right now, that person was the one thing keeping James alive. Steve felt grateful towards the stranger.

“You’re not really doing a good job of convincing me. If I knew the location and told you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.” James spoke with an impressive calm.

“Something could be arranged.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t risk jeopardizing that information.”

Something clicked in Durami, it was the look of a man who’d just played his last card.

James continued, “You forget, I used to be one of you. I know how you think.”

Durami stood up suddenly, knocking the table. The door slammed as he made his exit. Steve looked back to James who although couldn’t see through the glass, smirked anyway. Steve couldn’t help but return a small one.

He could feel Peggy’s stare.

Durami burst into the viewing room, his body shaking with anger.

“Sir?” Steve knew it was dangerous to ask the Director anything in that state. Durami signalled to carry on.

“You mentioned the drive had disappeared again—”

“Not disappeared, _stolen!”_

 _“_ Any details on the suspect?” Steve continued, purposely ignoring Durami’s outburst.

“Plenty! She wasn’t exactly hiding, she didn’t need to! Red hair flailing in the night, I think she even smiled at the camera.”

Red hair—so she had found it.  

“Has there been a mission to find their location?” Peggy asked. Clearly this was new to her as well.

“No, it took a year last time. We don’t have patience for that anymore.”

“Clearly,” Peggy showed her disapproval for a split second.

“I want you to have a crack at it,” he spoke to Steve.

“What would I have to offer?”

“Something good, I hope. We’re running out of options.”

Steve entered the room and sat across from James on the blackened side of the glass. He would have to be strategic with his questions; getting the answers without giving anything away.

“How did you send a direct message to my hotel room?” Steve started.

Confusion crossed James’ features. “What message?”

Though Steve himself wasn’t the best at lying, he could tell when someone was lying to him. James had no idea what Steve was talking about which meant the message had come from whomever the red-head was working for. It also meant that they wanted James alive, _or_ at least wanted him for themselves.

“He’s _obviously_ lying. _”_ A voice came through the speakers.

“It’s not escaping my notice,” Steve lied. James set his jaw, fixing his eyes on Steve again. 

Steve hoped James could see through the deception.

“Where were you heading when I found you?” Steve had to at least look like he was trying.

James stayed silent for that one. He tapped his left hand on the armrest. The metal of his hand tapped louder than fingernails ever would.

Steve hoped that Durami wasn’t picking it up. At first glance, the tapping was nonsensical and random but Steve knew better. Knew that James wouldn’t make any move that people could turn against him unless it was necessary. Even something as small as tapping.

It was Morse code and unfortunately, Steve could not understand it. Out of every new skill he’d perfected over the weeks of training, code-breaking was not one of them. He wondered if the Director had ever learned it.

He wasn’t sure how to continue. He couldn’t pretend he could understand the answers, couldn’t risk anyone catching on and he had no idea how to tell James he couldn’t decipher morse code.

Steve sighed inwardly. Once again feeling he was letting James down. Except, James had survived just fine without him. More than fine. He’d hidden in an easily trackable world for over a year. Long before Steve was even in the equation. Before he was in the program entirely.

Steve wasn’t even sure James trusted him at all anymore. It didn’t make sense that he would. He didn’t know Steve. Only as the agent who had got him caught by the very people he was outrunning.  

“I don’t think this is any use, sir. I’m not getting anything out of him.”

James frowned slightly. Small enough that only Steve could see it. It killed him not to be able to reply—to keep a still and expressionless face.

“Keep going! You got a few words out of him.” Durami’s harsh voice came through the intercom. The frustration was clear, as was the desperation. “Don’t be afraid to show a bit of physical persuasion.”

Steve shuddered in his seat as James got ready for a punch that would never be thrown.

“I don’t think that’s completely necessary,” Steve said through gritted teeth.

Back on the other side of the glass, the Director grilled him almost as much as the actual interrogation.

“Not having second thoughts now, Rogers?”

“Just considering other leads.”

“There aren't any, this guy knows a lot more than he’s sharing.”

“This guy also knows how to withstand and interrogation. You trained him to. We’re wasting our time.”

“So what do you suggest?” he mocked, “Kill him and have done with it?”

This was the complete opposite direction the conversation was meant to turn but what was Steve expecting, for the Director to just let James go?

Steve laughed it off but it was fake. “No, pursue the red-haired agent and keep this guy secure as a last resort.” He pointed with his thumb to the interrogation room.

To Steve’s surprise, Durami actually looked like he was considering it.

“And send in a division?” Durham queried.

“It would probably be less conspicuous with a single agent,” Steve replied doing his best to hide the sarcasm.

Peggy eyed Steve with scepticism, clearly reading into his hidden motives.

“That’s not a half-bad idea, Rogers,” Durami clapped a hand on Steve’s back, his tone lightening, “but, I would have to insist one back-up agent.”

It was better than Durami’s alternative of beating James to a pulp. He’d take anything over that. “I can’t speak for Wilson but I would be more than willing to offer myself, sir,” Steve said with his most compliant-soldier voice.

“If you can convince Wilson, I’ll allow you both to go,” Durami said finally, wrestling with admitting there was a better plan than his own.

Steve nodded with relief. “Yes sir.”

“Now, go take him to one of the cells,” Durami said offhandedly with a wave of his hand.

“Rogers doesn't have clearance but I can go,” Peggy interrupted.

“Take him with you, Carter.”

The Director insisted that ’the prisoner’ stay strapped in the chair in transportation, so Steve wheeled James down the mostly empty hallway.

When both Steve and Peggy had re-entered the interrogation room James had given Steve a fleeting look of question. Steve ignored it pointedly but placed a hand on James’ shoulder briefly—and he hoped subtly—before reaching for the handle of the chair. He felt James tremble out a quiet breath.

Steve could tell he was entering a more restricted and less glamorous section of the base. The walls darkened and the lights became more fluorescent. More guards roamed the halls with twitching hands over their guns.

The three of them reached a security warranted door. Peggy casually swiped a keycard and placed her hand on a blue-lit screen. She then turned her palm up and the guard nearby scanned the inside of her wrist. They walked through without a problem.

“Be glad you don't have one of _those_ implanted.” Peggy said with a pointed look.

Through the doors were a row of cells paired with a blue force field. Clear force fields had been released some time ago and realized the colour was more for intimidation. Peggy had to swipe her keycard again for it to disable then she opened the metal door behind it.  

Steve guided the chair inside. Peggy had gone to stand nearby the first security check.

James leaned in as Steve began unbuckling the first of the straps. “What’s going on?”

Steve looked back and confirmed it was just the two of them besides the cameras. “I persuaded Durami to let me go on a mission and in the meantime keep you alive for intel,” he whispered.

James gave a short nod, glancing down, watching as Steve unchained his legs from the heavy clamps of the chair.

Steve made sure he was facing _away_ from the cameras when he uttered, “Stay alert.” James could convey so much emotion through just his features that Steve was positive James understood the masked words. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

**~**

 

Steve made his way slowly to his apartment. He was in no rush to get back and needed to calm his wandering thoughts. Such things were dangerous to have in this particular environment. Above doing the right thing, Steve wasn't sure why he was so set on saving James. It was more than simple morality. He wasn’t even sure how much trust James had in Steve, and Steve hadn’t done much to strengthen it in the past two days. Although, James had been at ease enough to ask about a plan, even when Steve was in the process of locking him up. That must have meant something. Steve sighed. Maybe he was completely overthinking the scenario.

He placed his thumb against the keyhole and heard the distinct _click_ of the door opening. He found Sam lounged, carefree across the length of the sofa.

Once he’d informed the Director, they only had a day to go over the plan together. Steve got Sam caught up on the actual incurrence of events since and including the what he’d witnessed in the lab. 

He beckoned Sam to follow him into the bedroom. He set it to Dark Mode on the way in. It was a useful feature, but risky if used frequently—too much use and it would catch the attention of the monitors. 

“What’s the draft even for? Why is Durami trying to rid the world of people with alterations?”

Over the years, the word cyborg had become a derogatory term rather than a definition and Steve had never used the word anyway. The truth was most people who had the title pegged to, didn’t even _qualify_ for the definition. Not that it would change anything for Steve if they did, he still wouldn’t use the term. The fact that Sam didn’t either just confirmed that Steve had placed his trust in the right person.

“Peggy thinks he was trying to get to Barnes. _”_ Steve slid his hand up his face, “We need to get that drive.”

“ _Peggy?”_ He smirked. Since when did you get so familiar?”

He gave Sam a look. Sam coughed dismissively. “So what’s your plan, to break the guy out? Last time I checked, you didn’t have clearance.”

“No but I know someone who does.” Sam looked as if he was about to bombard Steve with a million questions. “We stick to what we told Durami, except that I come back at night and use the keycard."

“Won’t that be a coincidence too far? Durami will know it was us.”

“I’m _hoping_ Durami will assume it was the red-haired agent who did the breakout, he already thinks James is one of theirs—whoever _they_ are.”

Sam gave him a look of what Steve would describe as disbelief, possibly—probably—on how much of this plan relied on assumption. “Right,” he deepened the look, “and after that?”

Steve shrugged, slightly admitting that he hadn’t thought further than reaching the hotel room. “With some help from James, we find the base that’s keeping the drive and help decrypt it.”

“You make everything sound so simple,” Sam said with a grin. “Now go get the keycard.”

The walk to Peggy Carter’s would have been a maze without the earlier direction of another agent. He briefed her of his plans and when he was done, she had only one thing to say.

“Just be careful Steve, don’t draw the world’s attention to yourself until you're all ready. Promise me that.”

“How will I know?”

Peggy considered this with furrowed brows and a powerfully determined quality. “You have excellent intuition. You’ll know.”

Steve held her gaze, it held so much more than concern. It carried the prospect of Steve’s success and the weight of what failure meant.

“I promise.”

Sam was already packed when Steve arrived back at the apartment. A single navy backpack matching the shade of their stealth suits lay beside the front door. It didn’t take long for Steve to do the same. Most of his gear was still in the dryer after its recent wash.

They ate the last home-cooked meal that they would have for a while, before hitching the bags over their shoulders and leaving the base. Steve led the way to the military hovercar dock and reluctantly placed his hand on the scanner to sign one out. Before he could activate it however, Sam gestured towards it. “Let me— you’re doing the shady business later.” Steve just nodded and allowed him to sign the car out on his account. Besides, Durami was expecting them to check a car out, so no suspicions should have been raised.

Sam dropped Steve off at his house, before starting his long trip to their rendezvous place in Belgium. It was strange to be in front of the small building again. Steve hadn’t been back home in months, not since he’d enlisted. It was just how he’d left it. Apart from the hovercar in the driveway which Peggy assured him was her personal one that nobody knew of. She’d lent it to him to have one more thing that couldn’t be traced. Inside, he did a once-over of each room, picking up a couple of items he might find himself needing later, and then he set an alarm and tried to get a few hours sleep.

He woke up exactly three hours later to a soft buzzing alarm. With no need to get changed, being already in his stealth gear, Steve curtly brushed the sleep away and set off to the base on foot. Giving the house a last look over his shoulder before doing so.

Being so late at night, the streets were scarce of anybody. Not even a lone taxi occupied the back streets Steve chose. It was relatively easy to enter the first part of the base. He doubted it would be closer within the complex structure. With each step he took further inside, the likelihood he would make it out, shrunk. He could feel the invisible walls close in around him long before he was surrounded by the real ones.

Steve clutched the keycard as he navigated through the route Peggy had given him. He eventually arrived at the first checkpoint, thankful for once people had so much trust in technology since it was deserted. He knew that there were eyes above however, peering on holoscreens. Steve had his hood pulled well over his face as subtle as possible while he scanned the card. Somehow, Peggy had got hold of a masking device for his prints, he carefully lined it up and pressed the sticky film to his palm. He still held his breath when he pressed it against the screen. It was verified and the door clicked open.  

The hallway was dark and since it was nighttime, no hum of the lights or distance clatter filled his ears. The cell lined walls were still completely empty except for the one at the end where James still sat.

“Steve?” James said once Steve was close enough to be seen from the clouded moonlight. It trickled through the single window of the cell.

“Told you I’d come back,” Steve whispered, a smile taunting his lips.

“You’re not doing something stupid like, breaking me out, are you?”

“The second part, not the first.”

“It’s one and the same thing,” James replied, almost exasperated.

“Stay here all you like,” Steve teased.

“Just stop wasting time, and get me out of here.”

Steve deactivated the forcefield and slid open the metal door, mentally beginning the countdown they both had since opening the cell. James stepped through pulling the hood over his own head. Peggy had insisted that she would take care of the cameras inside the cell but they were on their own for the rest of the building. That much tampering would get very suspicious very quickly.

The corridors they walked now seemed longer and Steve felt more vulnerable than he had for a long time. Not since he lived in the children’s home. Still, now he had James, who from observation, was quite a bit more trained than himself. It did little to quieten the blaring thoughts that sprung at every corner they walked around. For once, James seemed more on edge than Steve was. It made sense. More was at stake for him that it was for Steve.

Six minutes later they were nearing the last gate that held them in the grounds of the base. Once they were over that they could worry a little less. They did so with only a minor incident where they nearly came face-to-face with a set of agents returning from a mission, but James clocked them before it became an issue.

Steve led the way through a very similar route back to his house. A few minor changes meant that he wasn’t being too obvious. Not that many people would even be compelled to check at the moment. As far as anyone was concerned, he was in Belgium.

He didn’t waste any time out in the open, and quickly unlocked the front door. James hesitantly followed, eyes darting. “This is your house?”

“Mm hm, we’re supposed to stay here for a bit, not make it too obvious.”

If James heard, he didn’t react. He was staring at the two photos on the mantelpiece. One was of Sam, his arm carelessly slung round Steve’s shoulder. The other was from the home Steve had lived for nine years of his life, the photo had a mix of smiling and squinting children, others merely stared at the camera. It had been taken October of 2283, two months after the only real friend he made in that place left. He’d always got along with the other kids, but Bucky had been different, until one day he left without notice. James was completely fixated on it. Steve went to stand alongside him. “Orphanage I grew up in,” he said in explanation. James just nodded and blinked out of the trance-like state.

“You got any food in that fridge?” He nodded his head towards it.

“If I do, I _really_ don't think you’ll want any of it. I’ve not been here for months.”

James suddenly looked uncomfortable like he wasn't sure what to do. Steve saw him eyeing the sofa. “You get any sleep in the past two days?”

“Not really.”

His hollowed eyes spoke further than his words. Steve had noticed them back at the safe house but they were far more defined now. “The bed’s down the hall if you wanna get a few hours in.”

James still looked unsure and made a possibly unconscious glance towards the front door.

“I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

James’ shoulders slumped, the momentary tension slipping away. “Then I’ll take you up on that offer."

Steve led him to the room and assured him that the bedding _was_ in fact clean. James looked like he couldn’t care less at that fact as he slipped under the covers. He kept his eyes open for a few seconds longer till he seemed satisfied with his surroundings and closed them, his body taking relief instantly

Not wanting to make James anymore uncomfortable, he slid through the door and closed it as quietly as he could before collapsing on the sofa himself. He kept his promise and made sure no one attempted to enter the home, he could manage a few more hours until he need sleep anyway.

 

**~**

 

Since the car was the most recent model, the journey was quicker than most. They made it to the city in four hours, touching down just outside Brussels. Steve traversed through the busy streets still in the car, only now on the ground. It wasn’t long until they pulled up to the hotel. Steve pulled into one of the designated parking spots and killed the power. He dropped his hands from the controls and let out a breath. To his right, James had reclined his seat and was curled up towards the window. His left hand was against his thigh, hovering over the holstered gun. Steve was figuring the best way to wake him up without ending up with a bullet in his own chest when James stirred. It wasn’t gradual, his body recognized the absence of movement and he jolted upright.  

“It’s okay, you’re not a prisoner, you’re in Belgium.” Steve wasn’t completely sure why he chose those exact words but it seemed to calm James anyway.

“Yeah, I see that.” James moved his hands up to confirm the lack of restraints. “Now, are we going into this hotel, or just sit here all day?” he said after a moment.

Outside, it was pitch black besides the gritty wind swirling in the glowing street lamps. Neither of them had much luggage, only a backpack each and one for food. Steve checked in, while James acted if he’d never seen Steve in his life. It was all part of the plan. Steve needed everyone to believe that he’d gone to Belgium only with Sam. Sam meanwhile was staying in hotel they had booked for themselves. It was a two minute drive away.

Their hotel room was a little fancier than the two of them needed, but neither of them were paying so it was far from a problem.

Deep red bedding covered the two queen-size beds with a good distance between them. Each one had numerous elaborate pillows decoratively placed at the head of it all. Steve wondered if there was even a simple pillow to sleep on.

“Got a preference?” Steve motioned towards the beds.

James in response dropped his backpack onto the one closest to the door. That didn’t surprise Steve, nor did it bother him. He mirrored James, unceremoniously chucking his own bag on the other bed. The large window expanded across the tall buildings. Unlike most cities, they hadn't separated the old, instead the modern buildings slotted in spaces alongside the ancient ones. Their elaborate designs and golden brick oddly fitting against the mainly stark white of the current century’s structures.

“Mind if I take the first shower?” James asked.

“Nah, you probably need it more than me.” It hit Steve what he’d just said and stuttered. “I didn't mean—“

“I knew what you meant.” James waved him off with an amused smirk.

This came as an instant relief to Steve, and he decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being. James padded with soft feet into the sizeable and abundantly stocked bathroom. Steve sighed after the near miss, once he heard the faint click of the lock.

James appeared ten minutes later donned in one of the hotel’s dressing gowns and a towel around his shoulders. His hair had been towel-dried, but the long strands still dripped.

“All yours.” He pointed to the bathroom when Steve didn’t move.

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” Steve muttered.

Steve grabbed some fresh clothes and hurried into the bathroom to avoid James’ lingering gaze. Once behind the safety of the sliding door, he pulled off his shirt and pants. He adjusted the pressure, but the temperature was just right so he fully immersed himself in the spray. The tension from the day didn’t slide away, but at least the dirt did. Once he was sufficiently clean, Steve stood two minutes longer, savouring the fleeting tranquility. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the soothing water and towelled himself dry. He gave little attention to his tousled hair and slipped on the fresh clothes.

When Steve came out, James was sitting over the edge of the bed, no longer in the dressing gown but in a light grey shirt and pants. He was hunched over to his left, a tool in his right hand. Steve didn't stare too long as he made his way to his own bed but it looked as if James was touching up his metal arm. He wore a frown in deep concentration, as he dug a tool Steve had never seen before into one of the grooves.

After a minute or two, James threw the tool into his bag and in one swift movement jumped backwards to sitting cross-legged. “So,” he twisted to face Steve, “what’s the plan?”

“We find that drive,” Steve said, simply.

“That much is obvious.”

“Then, uh, you decrypt it again.”

James shook his head, “Uh, uh. No, I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” It was a genuine question. Steve wasn’t sure who had recoded the drive since it had been repossessed.

“Won’t.”

“Is that why they’re after you?”

James stared at his hands, clearly deciding if he should continue. “I have information on that drive about the Op-program that could bring it down.”

Steve frowned. “Why don’t you want to decrypt it?”

“That information,” James shook his head and sighed, “it would cause mass riots.

“What is it?”

“If I told you, they would only have a second target.”

_It was worth a shot._

“How would they know I had the information?”

“They have a way, okay?”

“Just tell me.” Steve said helplessly. It would really help both their chances if he knew what was at stake.

James, who had long since looked down, glanced back at Steve. His smoke-tinted eyes had not dulled under the exhaustion.

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

 

**~**

 

**August 2283**

The weeks of summer passed by with an accelerated speed. Bucky was the main reason for that. Steve had never felt as close to anyone who had stayed in the orphanage before. They barely spent a moment apart since that night. The night that Bucky had promised to stay. At first, Steve hadn’t believed him but as the days turned into weeks, Steve’s doubt had begun to slip away.

He should have known better.

Much like any other day, the sun was mercilessly beating down on the concrete tiles of the courtyard. Steve had led them to one of his favourite spots for both him and Bucky to bask within the cool breeze of the shade. Bucky was leant against the thick trunk of the old weeping willow, engrossed in a weathered book. The long branches brushed against the ground acting as a shield from everyone else. Steve had his sketchbook propped on one knee, out of view from Bucky, and anyone else for that matter. He was finishing a sketch he’d started the previous night, but got distracted when he looked up, pausing to change his pencil to his favourite hue of green. Bucky was in the perfect position to sketch and Steve quickly abandoned the drawing to start a new one.

Bucky’s outline was easy to sketch, his face however was a different story. Full of mannerisms six layers deep, half of them expressed through his blue, smokey eyes. They would be the most difficult to capture with Steve’s limited colour selection.

Steve was just finishing the short tousled hair when Leski strode through the patio doors. It drew the attention of the other kids as well as Steve. She called to Bucky and only then did Steve’s stomach drop. Leski's expression did nothing to calm the steadily rising panic. It was the same expression she wore before she broke bad news. She spoke, too hushed for Steve to hear at his distance. Bucky nodded and he walked alongside Leski indoors. Steve jumped up leaving his pencils and sketchbook open and vulnerable for viewing as he caught up to them. Leski just stopped ,blocking him and bent down to his level. Another bad sign. She placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “Not now, Steve.”

“But—“

“ _Steve.”_

Steve gulped, the unspoken words bubbling in his throat. He looked to Bucky whose eyes were too watery, tears threatening to be drawn.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered.  

They were the last words he heard from the boy who had made his life infinitely more interesting. The one person who genuinely seemed to enjoy his company, and as sudden as he had entered Steve’s life, was now gone.

Steve waited until they were out of sight before rushing inside and up the stairs into his room. He leapt up onto his bed and peeked out. He was still a tad too small to look out the highly placed window without standing on his toes, but this time he managed. He watched helplessly as the engine of a sleek black hovercar came to life. Not that he could hear it, they were soundless but the taillights flickered on. A moment later Bucky came into view along with a girl Steve had never seen before who was carrying the bag he’d lugged through the house just months before. Her hair matched Bucky’s shade. Without thinking, Steve knocked twice against the glass. Maybe he heard or more likely it was coincidental that Bucky glanced up to the window a last time before following the girl. His face showed the same guilt as when he had first arrived.

 

**~**

 

**2298**

The sunrise crept through the small gap between the heavy curtains. Steve blinked, feeling the warmth of the light on his eyelids. He turned over, further tangling himself within the covers. James was still in the other bed facing away, his bare shoulder peeked through the bedding. Steve could tell from his breathing pattern that he was in fact awake. Instead of speaking, Steve decided he would make it known he was awake through movement. He still didn't know James that well and it suddenly hit him the reality of his situation. The adrenaline must have finally worn off. He had questioned his loyalty to the program, and in the span of two days of realizing this, had run away along with a fugitive he’d known for a bit less than six days. The same fugitive who he was now sharing a hotel room with.

They were up and ready to go within twenty minutes. Steve was grabbing the array of hotel supplied water bottles when a short rap at the door grabbed his attention, and apparently, James’ too. James already had his gun unholstered and was aiming it curtly at the door. Steve motioned for him to lower it. James kept it stubbornly trained forward.

Steve made careful steps towards the door. He activated the camera on the wall to the side of it. Sam gave a short wave towards the twin camera on the other side of the door and Steve made to open it in response. When Sam stepped in, James was visibly unnerved and took a step back, his gun still solidly aimed at Sam’s head.

“It’s okay, James. This is Sam, my teammate.”

“You could have warned me,” James replied with a hint of well-deserved annoyance.

“I know. I’m sorry,” his shoulders slumped. ”I didn't know he was coming over.”   

Steve looked back to Sam questioningly. Sam got the hint.

“Yeah uh, your signal wasn't showing up. I wanted to check you were both okay.”

Steve pulled out the secondary memoband they were using as a diversion. “Yours isn't showing up either.” He turned the screen to face Sam.

“Someone’s tampering with them, they're getting twitchy.” James crossed his arms, finally putting his gun back on his leg.

“Do you know who _they_ are?” Sam asked.

“Can’t be our guys, they don't know we have these.” Steve held up the memoband.

“Nah, it’s the agency who has the drive.” James said, matter of fact.

Steve was lost for words for a moment. Trying to connect threads. A lot of people’s actions were becoming gradually more unclear

“We need to get going,” James continued.

“Yeah, where to?” Steve asked.

“We should start where I met the contact.”

“Wait,” Sam glanced down briefly, a hand on his forehead, “you've never been to the base?”

James looked at him like he was crazy. “Well, of course not. We’re trying to contact an agency that no one knows about, how do you think they kept it like that?”

“Alright, so we head there, see what shows up,” Steve intervened then added, “Sam, they know we’re looking for them, they might do something about that. In the meantime, there’s no point just sitting around.”

Sam held his hands up with exasperation. “Yeah okay, until they decide we know too much.” 

James led them through the oblivious mass of people with a precise silence. It was twenty minutes later when they arrived at a park with the most lush grass Steve had seen in years.

“Well, this is where we met,” James said simply. “Not that, that means anything, it was over a year since I was here.”

“You’re both so positive,” Steve replied lightly.

“Just stating the facts,” James shrugged, eyebrows raised.

Steve scanned his immediate surroundings. There was a circular wall around the park, it had only one entrance; perfect for a meeting spot as it was very easily controllable. In the centre stood a large and elaborately carved three tier stone fountain. In the bottom pool lay hundreds of old coins that glinted in the morning sun. Outside the park limits were tall side-by-side buildings that towered well above the garden wall. It struck Steve how many spots that were perfect for snipers to lie in wait—a precaution he doubted the agency would have missed.

“I don’t think they would have changed the meeting spot too much,” Steve said finally.

“Oh? And why is that?” Sam asked. James was looking at Steve with much scepticism.

“Too many advantages here to move it. There can’t be an excess of locations which is as easy to control as this.”

“In this city maybe,” Sam retorted.

“So what, do we just wait till one of them shows?” James added, sarcastically.

“You guys are just full of it today huh,” Steve chuckled, trying to at least defuse _a part_ of the tension. “Not a bad plan though.”

“Dude, you may be good at observing, but if you think that’s a good plan then you’re mad,” Sam replied.

“And if you think I was being serious, you're losing your touch,” Steve smiled.

James was watching the whole exchange with utter irritation and possibly a hint of amusement. “You better have not broken me out of that cell for me to listen to you two banter.”

“Right, sorry.” This was more than just a training mission.. “We should at least give this place a once over. It _is_ our only lead.”

“I’ll check the perimeter,” Sam said.

Steve surveyed the scene with more detail. The benches hid no clues within their many scratches or marks, and there was nothing evident in the cracks between the bricks of the wall. He moved closer to the fountain and saw the still pools of water. It struck him how many coins were mixed with the layer of sand. Physical money had been out of circulation for centuries, for this many people to have coins laying around was a slight mystery. Steve stood back to see if anyone had paid him any attention since inspecting the sculpture. The park wasn't too busy and most of the people who were around lay on the grass. No one had even glanced his way.

He went back to the fountain edge and inspected the coins more closely. Most, surprisingly, were in fact old-age money, the shine almost completely rusted away. One grabbed Steve’s attention when he noticed that it still bore its silver tint. It showed no evidence of rusting. Steve gave one last glance over his shoulder before slipping his hand into the cool water and taking the coin in-between his fingers.

Once it was out of he water, it was instantly clear this had never been money. To start, it was slightly larger than any coin had ever been and secondly, it had no value etched on its front. Instead Steve saw a peculiar symbol on the front he thought he’d seen before. It displayed a figure that could have been a bird but the feathers were sharp cut like blades. Along the outer edge he saw a series of numbers and after moment, Steve realized they were, more specifically, coordinates.  

“Hey James,” he called distractedly, still marvelling at the token.

“ _Yeah?_ ” He walked over to Steve’s side trying to see what he was holding.

“Ever seen something like this?” Steve held up the token while Sam joined them both.

James looked surprised. “No, but that is the symbol of the agency. I saw it on one of their agents.”

“Got our next lead then, there’s coordinates.”

“You think that thing was placed for us?” Sam questioned.

“No idea but I guess there is only one way to find out.”

Sam sighed a little. “You wanna go here.” He pointed to the token.

“Got a better idea?” James gave him a look.

Steve lifted his arm to type the location into his memoband but soon found out that they were standing in a dead zone. The band wouldn't connect. Upon mentioning this, it became obvious that it was not _only_ happening to his own. They headed out the park’s boundary and found that they were once again, working. Steve called up the hologram and typed in the coordinates mid-air. Instead of showing a pinpoint on a map, the screen displayed a spinning “loading” wheel.

“What the hell?” Steve wondered aloud.

“What?” James peeked over Steve’s shoulder. “Ah, its code.”

“Huh?” Sam asked.

“The coordinates on the token weren't the real location. You’re memoband is decoding the real location right now,” James explained, “it could take a while though.”

They waited a few minutes more until Sam declared he was hungry and that there was no use hanging around when they could wait in a cafe. James grumbled at this but eventually followed.

As soon as they were through the door of the cafe, James sought out the best defendable table that also had a clear view to the window. Sam went to line up after grabbing their orders, while Steve sat directly across from James. The movement startled James to look up. He seemed just a tad bit less tired. His eyes weren't nearly as sunken as they were even a few days ago. Steve must have been staring because James jerkily glanced away, pointedly watching the world outside. His whole posture screamed that he was far from okay to be the current situation. His shoulders were hunched while he made deep, purposeful breaths.

Steve brushed his hand he’d placed on the table to grab James’ attention. “Hey, we’re okay.”

James twitched at the contact, but only tugged away when Sam came into view, balancing several drinks. He placed the three mugs in the middle of the table and then took a large paper bag from underneath his arm.

“Thanks Sam,” Steve smiled.

“No problem,” he replied. He turned to James, “I wasn't sure what drink you liked so I just got my and Steve’s favourite.”

“Thank you.” James pulled a mug towards him and sipped with caution. Steve slipped out two of the large stuffed pastries from the bag. He handed one over to James who took it carefully with his gloved left hand. James put the pastry beside his mug before swiftly hiding his hand under the table, away from the public eye.  

Sam didn't seem to catch any of this as he devoured his own food, but Steve had. He’d also noticed how James had steadily started shrinking in. It was clear that he was very far from comfortable in any domestic setting. He’d been the same at Steve’s place, not quite sure how to hold himself. It was equally as obvious that he was more at ease when he was around Steve than when Sam was present. So Steve decided he wouldn't do anything like he had a few minutes previously. Instead, he focused his attention on the drink in front of him which was getting colder by the second.

He was three-quarters done when his memoband finally vibrated. He immediately put his mug down and called up the hologram. By now both James and Sam were looking up expectantly. Steve looked back at the map on the screen only now it showed a red pulsing dot. The coordinates had finally been decoded. James saw the other side of the screen because he lurched upright almost bumping the table over. Steve found his gaze and James met it with a strange intensity. Steve nodded, hopefully ensuing _some_ calm, and downed the rest of his drink. He set the memoband to _Navigate_ and they headed out onto the street.

The route directed them through several cobbled streets, each one just as seemingly deserted—clearly planned by the agency. It was almost untraceable and even harder to remember. Steve swore that they circled the block a few times but it was hard to tell; the place was a maze. Despite the antics, they did reach their destination.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks and the others followed suit. They’d come to a t-junction. The street across showed no sign of having an entrance to any base, although, they never did. He regarded the surroundings for any similar clue they found in the park. Nothing stood out. Currently, they were facing an uneven wall of brick that had been heavily graffitied—that wasn't anything startling. On either side of it stood a row of buildings that just continued the labyrinth of backstreets in Belgium.

“What the hell?” Sam asked with disbelief.

“You didn’t think it be that easy, did you?” James said. “They’re testing you.”

Steve barely heard the exchange. It didn't make sense for the agency to plant the token if they were just sending the three of them on a wild goose chase. Unless the token was never for them. It wasn't an unreasonable possibility.

In the background he heard Sam and James still—for lack of a better word—bickering. Though he did his best to tune the actual conversation out, the sound was still distracting. “Look, it wouldn't be logical to send us all this way just for a diversion. This was planned.” James looked in Sam’s direction, pointedly.

“Alright!” Sam threw his arms up, “Just how many of these are we gonna have to solve.”

“As many as it takes,” Steve replied calmly, looking back to the crossing street.

He was painfully aware of how long it had been since he was standing in a cell several countries over. By now Durami would have noticed James’ absence. Steve was merely relying on the wiped security footage to slow the Director down, connecting the dots. Something Steve should be doing at that moment. To solve what was in front of him, he would have to think as they would. Their thought pattern would be logical, strategic and the clues hard. They wouldn't want any stray person to able to decipher it.

In his periphery, James stood close to Steve’s right side. Steve whose gaze was transfixed on the wall, barely registered that James was looking slightly to his side at Steve and not straight ahead. Steve tried to ignore the intent gaze that he could only peg as wonder.

There was something distinctly _off_ about the street he was looking. Something that didn't sit with the rest of his surroundings.

Sam walked up on James’ other side with crossed arms. “You done staring at a wall yet?”

Steve heard it but the words seemed far away. He did notice how James smacked Sam’s side who looked at James with a flash of annoyance.

“Don’t you guys think it’s weird how the only thing with graffiti is that wall?” Steve nodded his head in its direction, not breaking the intense stare ahead.

They both followed his gaze with slight confusion at his line of questioning.

“Not really, one person did it once then others copied them. Don’t you think you're looking to deeply into something that is clearly a decoy. Just face it,”Sam faced Steve directly now, “they just don’t want to meet us.”

James shook his head, looking away. “That’s not their style, they wouldn't waste their energy on setting up an endless chase.”

“Well, they've changed their methods since you left.”

Steve could see Sam was slowly pushing James to his limit.

“Think about it, _really_ think,” James ran his hand through his hair, “if someone got guided through a maze that led to a dead end, would they give up? Or be that much more dedicated to solving it?”

Sam was stunned into silence.

“Trust me, were on the right path,” he paused, “I do think you're looking into that wall too deeply though.”

“The coordinates led here!” Steve said, almost desperately.

“I know.” James placed a tentative hand on Steve’s shoulder unsure if Steve was going to snap. It was for barely a second.  

With no other viable lead, the three of them headed back into the centre of the city. Sam peeled off in the direction of his own hotel in the hope of keeping suspicions low back at base.

The rest of the walk back was in silence; Steve too preoccupied to make conversation, and James with no desire to start one. After the hotel room had been unlocked, Steve made for the edge of the bed and slumped down.

James stared for a while before Steve noticed. When he did, Steve looked sideways with question.

“I can’t take this much longer.” James started in explanation. “What is it?”

His words seemed to emit a well hidden concern.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been in your own world since we got those coordinates and you haven't said a word since we left that wall.”

Steve looked down and frowned to himself. “Why are you helping me, when you are so adamant about not decrypting that drive?”

James broke his gaze, now focusing on the looming buildings.

“Because,” he paused, “you have the right intentions, just not the right way of going about it.”

Steve looked sideways but James was still facing the window.

“But _why?”_

The word held so much weight that even Steve was taken aback. It caught James’ attention, his stubborn gaze slipping for a moment.

“What is so terrible on that drive that keeping it as a secret is more important than bringing down the organization that’s keeping them?”

Steve was on a roll now. “You even said so yourself, I was ordered to capture you. Why do you care if they make me a target? That’s my decision but I can’t make it if you—” he stopped short and took a breath, running a hand through his hair.

“So _why?_ Why are you going along with me when you could disappear again, be safe from all of this?” He gestured vaguely.

“Nah, I’m stuck knee deep in this shit. There’s no hiding away from it, not really. And anyway,” Bucky stared with a certain intensity Steve had never seen before. He hesitated and searched Steve’s eyes. “I couldn’t disappear from you, not again.”

_Again…._

It had been fifteen years. And within that time Steve had managed to build an impressive barricade from everything that had happened. The part of his childhood he’d tucked away and hidden, even from himself so that now, it physically felt as if he was learning it for the first time. Every memory that had been to painful to relive that he’d ignored the signs that were now so obvious. But now, as easy and as powerful and sure as a wave crashing the shore—it all came back. The words spilt through every inch of his mind, ridding him of every defence he’d set in place.  

Standing in front of him was Bucky and there was no denying it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice quivered, and Steve struggled to stop the sudden choke.

Bucky shrugged but Steve could tell it was to hide the oncoming emotion. “People change,” he said simply, “I wasn’t sure how much you had.”

“Bucky?” His voice caught. “It’s really you.”

Steve stared into the smoke singed blue eyes and right then, he didn’t need a reply, he already knew.

“Yeah Steve,” Bucky huffed a shaky laugh, “yeah, it’s me.”

 

**~**

 

**September 2283**

Steve had received the letter three days earlier and he still hadn't decided if he was going. The date on the letter gave him two more days to decide, except he wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to get to the destination. Steve would have to come to a decision, and fast.

At any other time, he wouldn't have hesitated, but this would be Steve’s third time escaping and they would be expecting it. Bucky’s departure had hit him harder more than anyone would have thought. Steve was used to people leaving, he lived in a children’s home. Perhaps it was the ambiguity of the whole situation; the unwritten last page. No, it had been written, but the words had been scratched out and torn to shreds before they were close to reaching it. He wanted closure, needed it. And if it were to be the last time he would ever see that blue-eyed boy then so be it, but he needed to know the truth.

He was packed in ten minutes.

Steve slipped the letter into his pocket, the paper now weathered with worry. He’d read it so many times since Leski had given it to him, oblivious to the chaos it would cause.

He slipped out, silently and as expected, the corridor was deserted. Unbeknown to midnight footsteps, the floors creaked with uncertainty. In complete darkness, they held a different air and Steve carried on with careful breaths.

Outside, the world was still. Granted, the orphanage was situated in a relatively unpopulated area but Steve was overcome by an overwhelming silence. It stopped him in his tracks, he’d never really been out that late. Once out of his momentary stillness, he continued down the single battered track that led him towards the city.

As Steve neared the constant glow of the cramped buildings, he entered the coordinates into his memoband. He only hoped the battery would last the whole journey, it had been known more than once to be temperamental in that aspect. The hologram showed that it would be at least a day and half trek. He picked up his pace and followed the blue arrow that led him deeper into the city streets. It was as he was close it’s limits when a nearby taxi rank gave him an idea. One that would cut his journey time considerably. He nodded as if to confirm his new formed plan. He would take the taxi close enough it would mean less walking but would get dropped off far enough distance the driver wouldn't know his final destination.

Steve crossed the road and tapped lightly on the car window. The driver, who appeared to have been sleeping, jumped at the sound. He wound down the window and Steve took this as his cue.

“Could I get a ride out of the city please?”

“You on your own, kid?” The driver asked looking around for anyone who appeared as a parent.

“Yep, just me.”

The driver frowned but sighed in resignation. He was obviously not going to pass up the opportunity for a payment. “Alright, get in.” He gestured to the back.

Steve slipped into the back and gave him an address. The car came to life and seamlessly left the ground.

Looking below, the city glistened with the streetlights. Matched with stars above him, Steve felt as if he was gliding through glitter, floating as effortlessly as feathers. As the journey progressed, the landscape changed while they passed into different areas. The teeming city turned into smaller towns which turned into scattered houses. When the hovercar touched down on the outskirts of a city some time later, it was early morning and still pitch-black. Steve paid the concerned driver and watched the car disappear before he turned in the opposite direction and started walking. His memoband told him that he was forty-two kilometres away from the coordinates Bucky gave him so Steve still had a considerable trek ahead of him.

The harsh patches of glare created a tunnel of light amongst the dark surroundings, leading him through the night. Steve knew at some point he would need rest, he could feel every blink become more of an effort than the last. Sleep would soon take over and he didn't want to think about what would happen if it did before he reached Bucky.

Steve wasn't sure how long it had been since his taxi ride when he saw the two beams of light coming from behind, illuminating the dim path he was walking. Steve shuffled to the side of the road stay away from the light but the hovercar lowered and slowed alongside him. He panicked, frantically looking in which direction he would need to run. Instead of moving however, Steve froze. He stayed motionless until the figure exited the car. It was Leski, she had somehow found him. She had found him and would have every intention to take him back to the orphanage with no hope of reaching Bucky before the two days were up. It was with this knowledge, his legs moved and Steve broke into a run. It was with such speed he’d never seemed to reach before and it wasn't long until his legs started burning and his ankles felt as if they wouldn’t be able to take much more force. But he didn't care, he kept running, even as his lungs—unfamiliar to the new strain—felt as if they would burst, his breaths turning into short, urgent gasps.

Steve felt strong hands take hold of his torso and he immediately began to struggle. He made every attempt to wriggle out of the tight grip but no movement allowed him much leverage. Steve let out a frustrated wail. It must have sounded pathetic but he couldn’t help it. All he could think of was Bucky, waiting. Steve wasn’t sure how long he would wait at the meeting spot. Neither of them would be able to get the answers they needed. Answers that Steve, in that moment, _craved._

 

**~**

 

Steve heard the knock but made no effort to answer it. Leski pushed the door which had been kept firmly shut for two weeks. Even when Leski sat on the edge of the bed, Steve purposely ignored her, immersed in his sketchbook. He tucked his legs up to his chest and adjusted slightly so he was facing away.

At first, Steve had been furious at her. The anger was still there, but it was underneath the pure resignation. The complete and devastating acceptance that he had missed his chance; that he’d never see Bucky again.

“Steve,” Leski started, “you can’t stay locked up in here forever, you know?”

Steve battled with himself to keep quiet, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the snide comment on his tongue. “Wouldn’t have to if you had just left me there.”

Leski’s concern deepened, clearly wondering if Steve would ever get out of the slump he was in. Steve was wondering the same thing.

“You know very well I couldn’t do that,” she replied eventually.

With total betrayal in which he’d told himself not to cry, his eyes began to well up with messy tears. He wasn’t quick enough to move his sketchbook out of the way before one hit the page.

“But why did he go? Who were those people?”

Steve finally looked up and in the general direction of Leski. The lines in her face grew more noticeable and she was silent for some time. Just as Steve submitted to the fact he would not get an answer, she spoke.

“They were his family.”

Steve frowned, tears still blurring his vision. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand. Leski glanced down briefly then looked right into Steve’s eyes.

“Bucky had an argument with his parents which got a little out of hand. In his view, the only solution was to run away; so he did. His parents and sister have been looking for him ever since and now they’ve all gone home.”

 _Home._ Suddenly it felt like such a foreign word to him.

“I had hoped that Bucky had written this in his letter, but I assume it had other details instead.”

Steve just gave a small nod. An overwhelming confusion overtook him. _Why?_ Why would someone run away if they had a family, if they had someone who truly loved them? In an instant all the longing was replaced by a strange fury. It was selfish for anyone to take that for granted, but Bucky had. He’d willingly run away from it all and Steve resented him for it.

A part of him always longed for a proper explanation and to know what Bucky would have said that night. However, a larger part wanted nothing to do with him—the boy who rejected everything Steve ever wanted. Despite the conflict in his mind, Steve never did run away again.

In the end, Bucky had made a promise and one he couldn’t keep; whether intentional or not, it was still broken.

 

**~**

 

“I hoped. I hoped so bad you weren’t one of them.”

“When did you realize I wasn’t?” Steve was still coming to terms with who he was talking to, but with Bucky standing in front of Steve now, he wondered how he hadn’t seen it earlier.

“I think,” Bucky frowned, like he was realizing it just now himself, “deep down, I always knew—it’s why I didn’t run back at the safe house.”

“You _couldn’t_ run at the safe house, you had a bullet in your leg,” Steve interrupted with a slight smirk, already slipping into the easy banter he had thirteen years ago.  

“That’s true,” Bucky conceded, “but, I could’ve run the day the agents came.”

“My god, Buck, it’s been so long.”

Steve shook his head. It had been and with that sudden awareness, the loneliness of his eleven-year-old self came back too. The piece of him that always wondered the alternative outcome of that night. The part of him that always wished he’d been able make it to the rendezvous point. Would it even have made a difference?  

He looked hard at Bucky and really _saw_ him for the first time in years. Granted, he looked a lot different since the last time Steve laid eyes on him knowing his identity. He noticed the gentle stubble on his chin, only just covering the dimple. The dark hair, much longer and somehow lighter than when it stuck up in every direction. However despite the countless changes, the blue eyes still drew Steve in just the same. He never was able to capture the curiosity they inflicted or developed themselves. Nor how in every light they would appear to change shade, but did so with such subtlety that one would have to looking for it.

Bucky set his jaw and faced the floor. “I wanted—,” he exhaled, resetting his voice, “I wanted to tell you earlier, god I almost did. I was _so_ close.”

Steve was startled by how much guilt the words held.

In that particular moment, the mission slipped from his mind. It no longer mattered, not really. Because his childhood friend was back in his life and suddenly the torn up paper of the last page had begun to mend; the unread words starting to become clearer.   

“You see now why I’m so reluctant to decode that drive.“ It was more of a statement than a question. “I hoped by the time we reached it, you would realize how bad of an idea it was; how much danger it put you in.”

“It’s not the danger that bothers me.”

“That’s precisely my point.”


	4. Pro(ject)long the In(sight)evitable

Steve ran his hand through hair just as his military memoband pinged with a message. His stomach dropped when it opened and he saw who it was from.

**CALL IMMEDIATELY FOR UPDATE**

As much as he wanted to, Steve knew there wasn't much use in ignoring it, so he sighed and started a call. Steve motioned to Bucky to stay silent just as Durami picked up. Steve turned up the volume; it was unnecessary.

The loud, hard voice came through as soon as the call connected. “Oh she’s good, better than we thought. She must know you’re onto her and waited.”

Steve thought it best to play along. “Waited sir?”

“The prisoner’s gone! Not more than three hours after you left from what our security footage shows.”

“Did you get a look at the intruders?” Worry was spreading up Steve’s neck.

“Not even a shadow, it seems to have been wiped. All we have is a time stamp.”

“Has our mission intention changed, sir?”

“No,” Durami said with finality. “I want you and Wilson to pursue that agent. We have agents back here to search for Barnes. On that note, Rumlow has a new lead for you to follow—in France. I’ll send the info after this call.”

“Copy that,” Steve said, relieved how far from the truth Durami was. “You never mentioned having a name, sir.”

There was a pause. It wasn’t long, but longer than a natural reply would be. Durami had slipped.

“Yes, well,” he started unconvincingly. “Rumlow was able to trace the prints. You know how this world is.”

“Yes, I do.”

The call cut abruptly and a moment later, Steve received the new information. Clearly the diversion signals were working. He briefed Sam on the updated ‘intel’ knowing full well that one of them would have to follow Durami’s lead. Sam seemed to have the same thought.

“I’ll come and grab your memoband then,” he said over the speaker.

Steve gave a momentary glance to Bucky but looked away quickly when Bucky was already staring intently back. “Thanks, Sam.”

They both jumped at the abrupt sound of the knock that came. The fifteen minutes that it had taken Sam to head over felt excruciatingly slow. Both he and Bucky were ignoring the tone and subject of their last conversation.   

“Hey guys,” Sam said, clearly noticing the tension filling the room. He didn’t mention it.

“Hey,” Steve replied. He handed over his military memoband and Sam pocketed it. “Give me a week okay?”

“That gonna be enough time?”

“It’ll have to be.”

“Okay, just let me know if you need more, I may have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“Thanks Sam.” Steve clapped a hand on his back and smiled.

“Don’t let anything happen to him, alright?” Sam gestured to Steve.

“Trust me, I won’t.” Bucky answered in a tone Sam clearly wasn’t expecting. Sam frowned slightly but said nothing more.

He motioned for Steve to follow him into the hallway. Steve obliged, letting the door click shut behind them.

“You good?” Sam tipped his head towards the room. “You seem rattled.”

As much as Steve wanted to tell Sam everything, he figured it was Bucky’s tale to tell so instead he sighed, closed his eyes, a hand on the back of his neck and nodded, “Yeah, everything’s good it’s just, getting more complicated than I was expecting.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam replied, the tone lighter already. “Okay, gotta get going. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Same to you,” he gave a little salute as he went back into the hotel room.

He took a seat on his bed again letting the quiet wash over him. Trying to form his next words.

“Does this mean you’ll decrypt it now?” Steve asked,  knowing he would have had to address it sometime.

Bucky faltered and creased his brow.

“Personally, I don’t care what their great scheme is. The point is,” Steve sighed, “the point is, people are dying and I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try to stop that.” A disturbing thought occurred to him abruptly, “Hell! They almost killed _you.”_

Bucky turned his head away as he looked down, “It’s so risky, Steve. I just—” He clenched his jaw, a certain anger in his eyes as he stared into Steve’s. “I can’t lose you too.” Steve’s breath hitched as Bucky continued. “I tried Steve, okay? I tried and I regret the outcome every goddamn day.”

Steve knitted his eyebrows; he knew his was walking on shaky ground. “You lose someone?”

Bucky huffed a grim laugh. “Yeah, my sister,” he nodded slowly, “along with my arm.

“You see now? They knew I was onto them so they staged a car crash. Ended up killing the wrong person and now here we are, about to make the same mistake.”

Steve was stunned into silence and the quiet was all his mind needed to develop a sharp indecision. Bucky was still facing away, Steve reached out and grabbed is shoulder gently. At the touch, Bucky turned slightly to face him. “Buck, you’ll be on the run for the rest of your life.”

“At the rate I’m going, that won’t be much longer.” He shifted his gaze down again.

“Come on, Buck.” Steve dipped his head down to catch his eye.

Bucky heaved a great sigh and licked his lip. “You’re going to try with or without me, aren’t you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yeah, you always were a stubborn asshole.”

“Jerk,” Steve said, fondly.

“Punk,” Bucky replied. His voice as smooth as the day they created their saying.

Steve smiled with the corner of his mouth. And just like that, he had a larger motive to solve the situation he’d leapt headfirst into. One that he would never say aloud because it was so damn selfish. But it was true, there was no denying it, he couldn’t if he tried; he wanted to save Bucky Barnes more than anyone in this world.

It frightened him, the definitiveness of that thought.

“You gotta promise me one thing.” Bucky spoke with a strange calm and a solemness Steve couldn’t ignore.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Bucky—”

“No, _promise me_ you won’t do something stupid, that if something goes south, you get the hell out of there.”

Steve was transfixed by the sincerity. The way that Bucky was staring, unblinking with those eyes that couldn’t be held to one shade and matched no palette Steve had ever seen. They were blue dwarfs—forever burning; the centre of light and warmth. They were closing in on themselves but you couldn't see it because it happened so slowly. It’s taken years but now he thought he noticed a difference. It’s so subtle. Everything runs out of energy eventually. It just adds to the spectacle.

Steve was just thankful he was there to witness it all.

He was almost too distracted to see what they were hiding—an incomparable dread and a fear which caused a single shiver up Steve’s back. “You have my word, of course you do.”  

Something changed, if only slightly; Bucky understood that Steve meant every word.

 

**~**

 

Steve somehow managed to convince Bucky to head back to the graffitied wall. He understood Bucky’s hesitation; it was literally a dead end.

“Okay, lay it on me. What’s so interesting about this damn wall?”

Steve took a step closer to it. It wasn’t exactly something he could put his finger on. “It just doesn’t make sense that it’s the only wall in the immediate area that’s graffitied.”

He ran a hand over the bricks, dust falling as he did so. Steve was about to add more, something about how the coordinates led here when a symbol caught his eye. It was under several other paint marks but he recognized it instantly. It was the same as the token he’d found in the fountain.

“Hey Buck, come look at this,” he said as he fished out the token from his pocket.

Bucky stood by him and shrugged his shoulders in question. Steve held the token but Bucky had already noticed the painted symbol.

“Well, what d’know, there are brains behind that recklessness of yours.”

“What do we do?”

Bucky reached for the brick it was painted on and nudged it. The brick appeared to be loose, but came away from the wall with difficulty. It didn’t come out all the way and as Steve neared, he saw that the brick was hollow. Inside, lay a single, ancient looking device. He took it out and brushed away the thick layer of dust.

“Alright, alright,” Bucky grabbed the device and hid it within an inside pocket of his jacket, “don’t advertise it to the world.”

He slotted the brick back to its original position and swiftly moved away. Steve started with an uneven pace to catch up.  

Steve waited until they were several blocks away before he spoke. “What now? You know how to work that thing?” He turned slightly as he fell into synchronized steps.

Bucky stubbornly faced ahead his steps heavy and purposeful. “I’ll figure it out.”

He turned the corner and seemed to pick up his pace. He walked straight a moment longer before abruptly taking a sharp right down a long alley. Bucky slouched on the wall, one leg pushed up against it. A beam of light hit the side of his face, illuminating his jawline. Steve followed the light to where it ended at Bucky’s lips. It made them seem a deeper shade of red. It distracted Steve, even as Bucky moved to take out the device. It perfect to sketch, unfortunately, it came with the worst timing. Bucky used his elbow to push away from the wall but still leant back onto it, just with less of a slant. This was only a fraction less distracting to Steve.

Steve joined him in leaning, only, he did so on his side so he was facing Bucky, who was hunched over the small device, a deep frown set on his face. Steve knew better than to interrupt. Instead he silently watched over Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky felt around the side of the device and pressed several buttons he found but nothing he did would turn the screen on. “It’s been a while since I worked with a physical screen,” he muttered.

He turned it on its side and they both noticed a latch. Bucky flicked it up to find a small, old-fashioned eject lever. He pulled it and a circular drive reader came out from the top. Steve pulled out the token again an examined it. It looked small enough and since it was the only other thing they had from the agency, he placed it in the reader. It fit with a satisfying _click._

“Nice one,” said Bucky, a smirk on the side of his mouth.

Once the device registered the token, it slowly moved back into place. A moment later, the screen came to life and showed a single red pulsing dot—another intimidation tactic.

So they were being tracked, which wasn’t too much of a surprise.

“Yeah okay, we get it.” Bucky spoke with clear irritation as he pressed his finger continuously against the screen.

After several hard presses, Steve grabbed his hand gently, “I think it got the message, Buck.”

“Yeah well, I’m done with their stupid games,” he replied.

As if they had been heard—maybe they had—the screen changed again. This time to a single word.

**_Patience_ **

“What the hell?” Bucky, almost chucked the device against the wall.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah well, don’t you think we've done enough?”

Steve watched as Bucky’s hair fell over his face and saw his expression drop. It was easy to see why; they had been led on a wild chase, unsure of the outcome, and this meant infinitely more to Bucky. He’d been in this fight much longer. Steve lightly took the device out of Bucky’s hands. It was met with some resistance but eventually his grip gave in. Bucky clenched his jaw and stared at the floor. Steve knew exactly what that meant, he’d seen it before—decades before.

Steve tucked the interfering hair behind Bucky’s ear, he knew he shouldn't linger. It did catch Bucky’s attention, though. He moved his head up cautiously, as if he didn’t trust himself not to break when he did. He was fighting hard to keep his eyes vacant, placid. But the eyes are traitors, forbade to lie. They speak even when nothing else does.

He worked his jaw and stared, unblinking towards Steve.

“We _will_ work this out.“ Steve started. It was so difficult to figure out the facade Bucky had built up. “But if you want to stop, then I’m right behind you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Tempting,” he smirked, “but I started this, I’m damn well going to be the one who finishes it.”

 

**~**

 

Steve woke up to a pitch black room. At first he wasn’t sure what had awakened him but realized it had been Bucky, cautiously moving the covers. He noticed Steve had sat up and motioned to stay quiet; Steve nodded. Bucky moved past the window, the ambient glow hitting the side of his face. Steve could almost ignore that Bucky had his gun trained on the front door. Then Steve heard it. A rustling on the other side, almost too quiet to hear… almost. To the untrained ear, it undoubtedly would be. With hurried and impressively silent steps, Bucky pressed his back against the wall. He waited, making brief eye contact with Steve that told him he had everything in control and Steve didn’t need to worry. He didn't need the reassurance for himself but for Bucky’s safety. It’s strange how mucha glance could say.

The door opened with a single, swift motion but Bucky was quicker, already at the entrance. He had moved with a dangerous stillness and was now facing the intruder. Before they could even react, Bucky had the gun’s safety off and in a blink it was placed on their forehead. The intruder’s hands moved slowly into clear view. Bucky ignored the gesture and with his left arm grabbed their shoulder, dragging them into the middle of the room. With a wild fury Steve hadn't seen before, Bucky shoved the intruder on the floor against his bed. Steve could see that the man on the floor was heavily trained; most likely an agent, but even they hadn’t anticipated what he was facing. The gun Bucky held was still pressed between their eyes with a pressure that would surely leave a mark.

“Who the fuck are you?” Bucky growled.

The gun pressed harder. Steve thought it best if he intervened. He moved to Bucky’s side where the agent had stayed silent, in the meantime he’d regained most of his composure.

Steve calmly placed a hand on Bucky’s steady arm and applied gentle pressure, willing him to lower it. Bucky didn’t react.

Resigned, Steve spoke. “Answer his question, who do you work for?”

“Those, are two separate questions.” The agent replied, a hint of smugness appearing.

Bucky huffed with a slight sneer. “Don’t get clever with me. You broke into this room and for that, my patience has taken a hard hit.”

The agent chuckled. “Okay, okay, the fun’s over. I was gonna tell you anyway. I was sent to brief you.”

“You’re from the agency?” Steve asked.

The agent made a ‘you got me’ gesture with his hands as he sighed and stood up. “Yeah, and you two,” he pointed to each of them, “passed our little test. The boss is ready to talk.”

Bucky dropped the gun with obvious reluctance.“Was all this really necessary? Don’t we have the same goals?”

“We didn’t know that. Plus, we had to see how serious you were in finding us.” The man held his hand out as a truce, “Agent Barton.”

Steve took his outstretched hand but neither he nor Bucky introduced themselves. There was certainly no need.  

“So tell me, why did you think it was a good idea to break into our room in the middle of the night to brief us?”

“To be fair, my job was just to drop off the last clue. With everything we’ve given you, we figured you’d be able to work it out.”

“Work out what?” Bucky asked.

“The location of our base.”

Bucky gave one, slow nod.

“That red haired agent, she with you?” Steve briefly dipped his head towards Barton.  

“Ah,” Barton gave a short chuckle, “I see you met Romanov.”

“Briefly.”

“Now, sadly, the rest of your questions will have to be answered by the Director so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off.”

Steve didn’t mention how pleased he sounded about this.

Barton turned without another thought and placed a package on the desk. As he neared the door, Bucky grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re here now, just lead the way.”

Barton shrugged him off, “Sorry, I got my orders.”

With that, he slipped out of the room before either one of them could protest further.

Bucky sighed but turned away. He clambered back onto his bed and slid under the covers. Steve gave a questioning look which Bucky unsurprisingly caught.

“I’m exhausted, that package will still be there when we wake up.”

Steve didn't need convincing. Exhaustion had accumulated over the past few days, though at least he was sleeping better. His nights had seemed to improve ever since he’d been around Bucky again.

He got back into the second bed, and his eyelids instantly felt heavier, as if they now had permission to do so.

Steve fell asleep to the sound of Bucky breathing, the rhythm had a calming effect upon him.

 

 **~**  

 

Sure enough, the envelope still lay on the table six hours later. When Steve awoke he found that the bed beside him was empty. He sat up and leant against the headboard, Bucky was already sitting at the desk the package now unwrapped in front of him. Bucky was hunched over obviously attempting to decipher it. From where he sat Steve couldn’t tell what was written but from Bucky’s expression, it wasn't good.

“Another code?” Steve asked.

Bucky jumped slightly and faced Steve. He smiled lopsidedly. “Seems to be, they sure do like them.”

Steve hummed in agreement. He pulled off the covers and was met by the slightly colder air. Shuffling over to where Bucky sat, Steve leant his hand on the top of the chair and peeked over Bucky’s shoulder. Steve could have been imagining it, and there was a good chance that it was merely a coincidence, but he noticed as Bucky leant into the back of the chair. He felt the warmth of Bucky’s back on his hand.

Steve thought it best if he focused solely on cracking the code on the paper instead of the one in Bucky’s behaviour.

Steve could see why Bucky was having difficulty, there wasn’t much to go on. All that was written was a number. The last four digits determined it was a date.

**22082296**

“Mean anything to you?” Bucky’s confusion showing in his tone.

Steve recognized the date. He thought back to six weeks ago.  

“Uh yeah, actually,” Steve was surprised himself. “That was the date of my first mission.”

“So we’re supposed to type that somewhere?”

Steve pulled the device out of his backpack. Bucky leant in for a better view.

The screen had changed which confirmed that the agency was in fact controlling it remotely. Instead of the previous message, it now showed a keyboard and a box. Steve typed in the date exactly as it was written and hit enter.

**_INCORRECT PASSWORD: 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING_ **

Steve doubted that it would be a variant of the number and didn’t want to waste another try testing that theory. He placed the device back on the table and thought back to his first mission. There was of course a possibility that this had nothing to do with him and instead related to Bucky.

“Anything significant happen to you on that date?”

Bucky huffed, “How am I supposed to remember that?” he put a hand on the back of his head, “No I don't think so, this one’s on you.”

Steve nodded and replayed that summer night’s events. He remembered the briefing, how nervous everyone felt how it cramped the air in the jet. The flattened grass beside them as they landed. How deserted the building was—at first. He felt the rising panic he had as the safe remained locked, how rushed he felt as he scrambled to make sense of it all.

Did they expect him to remember the code from then? It’s the only thing that could be used as a password from that night. Steve struggled to pull those numbers from his memory. _Come on Steve, think_.

He remembered that he needed three other people to open it so four numbers and if he recalled correctly, five digits. They came back in a flash.

“I may have something,” Steve said, delicately.

**61205**

“This better work.”

He pressed enter.

**_INCORRECT PASSWORD: 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING_ **

“Oh, _fuck_.”

Bucky paused. “Where’d that number come from?”

Steve pressed a palm onto his forehead. “It was the code for the safe that had the drive in it. There’s only one more thing I know to try.”

“Well, might as well give it a shot, we only have one left anyway.”

“What if it’s wrong?” Panic settled in.

“Then we do this without the agency, fuck ‘em.”

Steve couldn’t argue with that. He turned over the piece of paper and wrote 6-1-20-5, then wrote the whole alphabet to the side of it. He then labelled each letter with its corresponding number.

**F-A-T-E**

“Here goes nothing.” He typed it in.

**_ACCEPTED_ **

“How poetic,” Bucky mocked as the screen changed.

It showed another pulsing red dot and a set of coordinates.

“This better be the last one.”

Steve clapped Bucky on the back. “It will be.”

Bucky gave him a smile.

Bucky protested at the notion of another bland breakfast and vetoed a decision to find a coffee shop nearby. They found a quaint little place on the corner of a street with a row of flowers bordering the window. Steve went in to order as Bucky claimed one of the tables outside. While they waited for the food, Steve opened the navigation of his memoband and entered the coordinates they had been given. Unlike before, where they needed to be decoded, the directions showed almost instantly. Steve figured that if someone had made it that far, it was pointless to add more diversions.

They ate in a calm silence, both preoccupied by their own thoughts. Steve was caught up watching the sun moving in and out of the thin clouds behind Bucky. A thin breeze getting trapped in the narrow lane.   

Once they had finished their food, they silently agreed to carry the rest of the coffee on their journey.

Bucky checked out of the hotel while Steve got the hovercar ready. They met in the garage and gave no hesitation to start the journey. Steve’s memoband showed that the base was a forty minute drive. He started the engine, it felt strange to leave. Technically having no place to stay, should they fail to find the base that night.

Exiting the garage, Steve steered upward so they could drive above the buildings. Looking down, the city no longer seemed as much of a maze as it did on the ground.

As they moved away from the city centre and the directions became slightly more straightforward, he could feel Bucky growing more tense. He was fidgeting, not staying in the same position longer than a minute or so.

Keeping his eyes on the road Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder gently. “You good?”

Steve saw in his periphery that Bucky glanced sideways. “Uh yeah, I,” Bucky focused back on the road, “I can’t quite believe how close we are.”

“Yeah me neither,” Steve agreed.

Forty minutes later, they pulled into a seemingly empty space on the outskirts of the city. Still hovering, they saw nothing beneath the car. A arge release of air caught their attention. Steve watched as the ground began to slowly open up. He carefully brought the hovercar lower so it was hovering just below the now gaping hole in the ground.

Bucky looked over just as Steve did. Amusement hinted in his expression.

Steve lowered the hovercar so it was going though the new entrance. He peered up just to see the last of the bleeding sky before the doors above them clamped shut. He parked on the landing pad and waited. The fear that he’d pushed aside to solve everything in front of him now rushed back with great force.

It was dark, almost pitch black and with the hovercar parked and powered down there was nothing to help the transition. A door in the far corner of the room opened and it offered a faint glow. A lone figure walked through and pulled a switch on the wall. Lights flickered on and Steve immediately recognized the agent. It was the redhead.

She stood silently in the doorway and signalled for them to approach. Steve found himself rooted to his seat. He clenched his jaw, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular, just ahead. He was jostled back by a hand on his arm.

“Steve?” Bucky frowned with concern.

He nodded, gave a last look to Bucky, to the agent then in one swift motion, before he could change his mind, opened the door and stepped out.

In that moment, Steve knew that Bucky was far more braver than he. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answers that lay before him.

He knew it was selfish, maybe even cruel. but all he wanted to do right then and there was grab Bucky and turn away, happy in his ignorance. He was also entirely certain that doing so would gnaw away at him as long as he lived.

“Agent,” she began once they stood before her, “and so wonderful to finally meet you both properly.”

Steve smirked, “Likewise, agent?”

“Natasha Romanov.” She extended a hand out, a glint in her eye and the start of a one-sided sly grin. “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I know the Director is eager to catch up, so I’ll waste no more time getting you there.”

Natasha led them through the underground web of their base till they reached a large set of doors. She punched in a code and a loud clunk signalled that it had unlocked. She pushed it open to reveal a vast space filled with an array of training equipment including a shooting range and sparring mats. Most of the space was being used by a surprising amount of agents. He hadn’t realized just how large their operation was.

Natasha motioned for them to stay put and went to speak with one of the agents who stood by the target boards. Steve was so entranced by what they had managed to keep hidden that he didn’t notice when she was beside him again _or_ who was next to her.  

“Agent Carter?”

Of course it had been her all along. Only she could have thought up a maze equally as connected as it was separate.  

“Hello Steve.” She gave a warm smile. “Quite the dedication you have if you’re standing here. I knew you had it.”

Steve was left speechless. Peggy ignored this and moved to Bucky.

“You must be James Barnes,” She held out a hand to Bucky, which he took, ”Peggy Carter. You have no idea how much we need you right now.”

“I hope I can deliver,” Bucky replied.

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Peggy?” Steve asked, frozen he barely heard the exchange.

“Oh please,” she gave him that knowing look, the one he’d seen many times before, “It’s so easy to get anything past Durami when one knows how to.”

“And Fury?”

“Fury’s one of ours,” she replied simply. “We have Durami thinking he’s got the run of the place.”

“That doesn’t mean we know any more of his plans.” Natasha chimed in.

“Not yet,” Peggy agreed. “But now we have these two.”

 

**~**

 

“Just how deep into Durami’s Op are you?”

Steve was still grappling with the sheer size of it all. The four of them now sat in Peggy’s—Director Carter as Romanov had pointed out—office.

“Since the beginning. I sent Fury in long before this specific Op started. We needed a hand in what they were doing.”

“Through espionage?”

“Is it espionage if they call us one of their own?”

Peggy’s expression didn’t waver. She was exactly where she needed to be. Steve was briefly grateful they were on the same side.

He caught a sideways glance from Bucky. Steve surveyed him with mild concern. The unease had rooted itself in his posture. Bucky edged a smile in the corner of his lips. It was ever so subtle, but Steve found himself somewhat calmer.

“We must apologize for the intrusive hologram in your hotel room, up until recently, we thought you were loyal to the special-ops.”

“Up until recently, I was.”

“What changed?”

Steve shrugged simply, “The draft.” He gulped, not completely sure he wanted the answer to the question that followed, “What exactly _is_ the draft?”

Natasha gave a careful sigh and shifted her weight. “It was supposedly created to find a lasting solution for the population.”

“Yeah, I got that spiel too,” Steve replied. “I thought you said it was to get hold of Bucky.”

“I originally thought that, yes, but they haven’t stopped it, even now.”

“You think there’s more to it?” Bucky asked.

“We think Durami is hiding something big behind the guise of a solution, a solution everybody is desperate to get their hands on so they don’t take the time to look more closely,” Peggy supplied.

“They get volunteers,” Romanov looked over at Bucky who had an eyebrow raised,“mainly.”

She continued unfazed, “Different backgrounds, different countries but all with cybernetics—that’s the only connection.”  

Steve tried not to think of how close it had been for Bucky.

“Why the hell would someone volunteer?” Bucky snorted.

“We don’t know,” Romanov pursed her lips, “we’re hoping the drive tells us.”

“Why do you need us for that?” Steve flicked his eyes up. He unclasped his hands after discovering he’d left deep red marks in the skin.

Romanov nodded towards Bucky. “He’s placed an encryption nobody has been able to disable.”

Bucky shrugged at that. “Wasn’t sure whose hands it would land in.”

“But you’ve seen what’s on it?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He grabbed his left arm with his right.

“Only the initial layer, I never got past the second encryption.”

Natasha nodded. “We can help you with that.”

Bucky’s unease didn’t disappear, he did a good job of masking it, but Steve could still see it in his posture. Whatever he’d seen on that drive, he didn’t want to read it again or anyone else to either.  

“This is a bad idea,” Bucky said once the two of them were alone again.

Steve turned. “We didn't go through all that just to back out now.”

Bucky was wringing his hands. He was hunched over the side of the bed. It wasn't out of fear but Steve couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

“There’s a lot that’s gone unanswered.” Steve continued, “So I’m hoping you can give some light to something that’s been praying on my mind for awhile now.”

Bucky still stayed quiet his face becoming more complicated to decipher. Steve took his right hand in his, grabbing Bucky’s attention, noticing how red it had already become from clasping it with his left. He recognized the habit.  “You don't have to bear this on your own you know, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, together.

“Come on Buck, what is it?”

Bucky sighed clearly resigning himself to Steve’s stubbornness. “The earth is dying and not at the rate that everyone's saying—faster, a lot faster.”

“How long are we talking?” He forced his voice to be level.

“A year at most, and that’s being optimistic,” Bucky replied.

Steve’s mind went to all the people that had no idea. In that moment he envied them but quickly dismissed the thought. He had insisted, and though the truth lay uncomfortably right in that moment, now he could do something, or at least try. He let Bucky’s hand drop gently.

Bucky was watching him cautiously, reading his reaction no doubt. How had he managed to keep this for so long on his own? Steve understood why he didn’t release it to the public, he was right that it would cause mass panic but how had he dealt with that knowledge, all that time? The strength that that must have called for. If it had been Steve, he’s not sure he wouldn’t have screamed it from the rooftops. This was still just the first part of the intel, he knew there was so much more. More that Bucky knew and more than he didn’t.

He held Bucky’s gaze for too long. He knew it but now he couldn’t help himself. All those missed years where they had been apart when they could have been together. How different that would have been. All those moments and memories that were never made, that never could be. He looked away, it all suddenly becoming too much. As if Bucky’s eyes were a gateway to those thoughts.   

“You okay, Steve?” Bucky asked, concern written all over his face but not in his words—they were unwavering.

Steve was drifting, he was aware of it perfectly well. Strange how something completely irrelevant can take over in an even stranger moment.

“Fine,” Steve finally replied; it felt like such an effort, “but I won’t be if we don’t decrypt the rest of the drive.”

“Then we do it ourselves, with their technology.”   

“We _need_ them.”

“And what then? We read it, do you really think they’ll let _us_ decide what we do with that information?”

“Yes, I do.”

That took Bucky aback, the calm quickly returning in his posture.

“Because I know Peggy, and I trust her.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded softly. “Okay.”

And in that moment Steve realized, Bucky would walk to the end of the earth for him.

Bucky smiled halfway, cynically. “Then let’s go see what these bastards are hiding.”

 

**~**

 

A holoscreen was already set up above the desk which illuminated the dimly lit room more than the actual lights.

Peggy gestured to the chair. “All yours.”

Bucky hesitated for a second but moved towards the desk and sat down. He moved his hand in the air to activate the keyboard then got to work. Steve watched as he typed at an impressive speed, the screen moving just as fast as it took in all the new text. It went on for about five minutes before the text disappeared abruptly and was replaced by a password prompt. Bucky took no time to enter it. The screen split into multiple screens and they spread so they could be read all at once. Bucky leaned back as Peggy, Natasha and Steve moved in around him and the screens.

The results to say the least were shocking. It was worse than Steve was expecting and from the look of the other’s faces, they had the same conclusion. There were charts and evidence that the world was indeed dying and they had just about a year left. Bucky had since stood up and was looking anywhere but the screens.   

Photos of the draft flooded the feed, it was truly horrific. The plans, the justifications but nothing on why they were really running it.

“How do they get away with this?” Natasha wondered aloud.

“They wouldn’t if the people they were doing it to were fully classified as human. Why do you think it’s only cyborgs that get drafted?” Bucky said plainly.

The room went silent, it was the uncomfortable truth for many.

“Right well let’s not waste anymore time, Romanov if you could.” Peggy pulled out the chair as an invitation.

Natasha nodded and pulled something out of her pocket before taking the seat. She flicked a switch on the device and instantly it began to hover. It gravitated towards the screen and once it was close enough, let out a blue light. It seemed to be scanning the code.

Meanwhile, Natasha had already got onto the keyboard and was typing at a furious speed. Occasionally a line of text would turn red but after a second it would go back to white.

Steve pieced it together easy enough. The device was to stop the security from kicking in. The layer took considerably longer than the first to crack but eventually the screen turned from text to a blank screen. A blip appeared and after a moment three words materialized:

**PROJECT INSIGHT**

**Proceed?**

“Either of you heard of this before?” Peggy asked.

Both Steve and Bucky shook their heads, Steve feeling extremely restless at ever finding out.

The cursor blinked, waiting for the command. Natasha pressed enter and data surged into view.  

“That seems to be all of it,” Natasha said.

A blueprint of a ship filled the entirety of the screen. Steve was lost for words, the image exuded a feeling he couldn’t describe. It was an ominousness that couldn’t be contained.

“What is it?” Steve asked.

Natasha pressed a few buttons to where the blueprint was explained. “It looks,” she paused and checked again, “like it was built for space.”

“What does a military operation need a spaceship for?” Bucky asked.

It didn’t make sense that was for sure but a part of Steve did know what it looked like, he just didn’t want to admit it. That would mean he accepted that truth.

“Maybe it’s their extraction plan?” Steve replied hesitantly.

“Extraction from what?”

“The Earth.”

“It says there’s space for two thousand people,” Natasha protested.

Peggy was still fixated on the data, searching for clarification. “They’re building three.”

“So six thousand people will get to live while the rest are trapped on the ground.” Bucky responded. He almost laughed from the disbelief.

“That’s ridiculous,” Steve agreed.

“That’s the truth we’re working with.” Peggy pushed off the table she had been leaning on. She was angry, but professional overrode angry so she showed it with perfect subtlety.    

Steve hadn’t noticed how silent Bucky had become since his initial reaction but Steve observed how awkwardly he was standing—as if he couldn’t bear to be in the room any longer.

Steve caught a glimpse of his expression; his eyes were what could only be described as frantic. It was a pure panic.

A moment later, as though he could read what Steve was thinking, Bucky stormed out of the room without another word. Steve didn’t go after him, figured he would need space to make sense of all his looming thoughts.

“We die on earth like the human race was supposed to, all they’re doing is prolonging the inevitable with this plan.” Natasha started, barely acknowledging Bucky’s departure.

“And what if we aren’t meant to? We have been stretching to get even just a glimpse of the stars for centuries,” Steve replied.

“Yeah and they got as far as Jupiter, there is nothing out there for us.”

“I,” Steve stared at his feet and shook his head lightly, “I can’t believe that.”  



	5. Deep Shadow Conditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The way in which a character breaks a bone is explained in some detail.

Steve wandered down the corridors of the base, no end in sight. The base hadn’t had many free rooms so he and Bucky had agreed to sharing, they’d done it before. Even back in the orphanage they would sometimes share the bed, pretend it was a sleepover. He wasn’t ready to go back to the room yet, with the current mood, the tension would be suffocating. He also couldn’t face going back without some sort of decision. Everything that he just found out was unsettling. It sat in the pit of his stomach, contradicting everything he stood for. The moral ambiguity snagged him, like an itch that wouldn’t disappear.

Steve didn’t know exactly how he felt about the end product, but he did know that the way you get there is just as important, and that was why he couldn’t settle on a feeling towards anything.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic knowing he was underground. Steve found a door and pushed his way through. He wasn’t sure if it was even the right way. He turned the corner and saw a long set of stone stairs leading upwards. Taking them two at a time, Steve tried to get his breathing back to normal, releasing as much pressure as he could.

The stairs did indeed lead to the surface and he exited the building with a little too much force but Steve wasn’t paying attention. He heaved in big gulps of air, already feeling the calm of being outside.  

Without realizing, Steve began walking towards the canal. He didn’t register how long it had been, he just arrived at the waterside and figured he would stop. The edge of the water was lined by small market stalls and old wooden benches. Steve was about to sit, when he spotted Bucky. He was perched on one of the benches, hunched over and staring intently at something he had in his hand. It was hard not to think that Steve had been drawn to him when he’d started wandering idly.

Now that he was out of the confines of the base Steve felt he could finally approach Bucky, though with careful words.

Steve wandered over and Bucky must have seen the impeding shadow because he turned before he was right at the bench.

“Hey,” Steve said softly.

“Hey,” Bucky gave a complicated frown, “how did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t, just knew I couldn’t stay in there.”

Bucky nodded in obvious understanding. He was still clutching the paper tightly like he was terrified that it would slip through his fingers. He slid over. Steve took the invitation and tried not to stare at whatever he was holding.

They sat there, side by side for some time watching the passersby go on with their lives. Bucky didn’t once turn anywhere than ahead, keeping a steady gaze on the opposite side of the canal.

“You know,” Bucky started, breaking Steve’s haze he’d slipped in, “when I ran away from home, it was meant as a statement. Deep down I never really intended to stay forever.”

He smoothed what Steve now saw to be a photo, every wrinkle showed its age. It was of a girl. The same girl Steve had seen outside the orphanage the day Bucky left. He gave Bucky room to continue.

“I was so mad at them, I knew so many kids who had always threatened to run away after an argument—they never did of course, but then I did and I felt so powerful. I knew my parents would be so worried.”

He paused again and for the first time since he’d spoken, looked sideways at Steve. It wasn’t just a casual glance though, it contained an intensity and overwhelming sadness.

“Then of course, I met you, and it killed me knowing I would leave eventually, but that look, god that look you gave me on that last day,” he started worrying the photo. Steve was stunned into silence, “that hurt so goddamn much. Not your fault obviously, you had every right to feel all of that. I want you to know, I never meant to hurt you. ”  

Steve could only stare at the ground. “I have to admit I was mad at you for a while. Not really because you left the orphanage, I could deal with that, people came and went all the time. I just couldn’t understand why you would run away from your family in the first place. One that loved you. I even considered ignoring your letter but I couldn’t take not knowing.”

Bucky squinted slightly and tilted his head. “So how come you didn’t make our rendezvous point?”

“I got caught about half an hour from making it. Boy did I make a fuss.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I bet you did.”

Steve smiled warmly and glanced back at the canal, thinking of if Bucky could have watched. Then it hit him why Bucky was telling him all this.

“You have to let all of that go, Buck.”

“But all that time not being with you. Leaving you wondering what the hell happened.”

Steve turned, then he took Bucky’s shoulders and brought him in close. Bucky nestled his head into Steve’s chest breathing a little uneven. Steve brought a hand to the back of his neck and moved his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“I’m here now.” Steve insisted.

He felt Bucky smile into his shirt. Bucky still hadn’t put away the photo which was on its way to becoming crumpled beyond recognition. Steve reached down to the hand that was holding it and stroked his thumb along Bucky’s fingers.

They sat like that until the buzz of the conversation seeped into comfortable silence. Until the true reality of the situation suddenly hit Steve again, now that the noise had faded.

“What are we supposed to do?” Steve wondered aloud, “How is this _our_ choice to make?”

Bucky sat up slowly, eyes somewhat puffy. “And that is exactly why they’re so bulletproof. Who could make that choice? Who would?”

A call request pinged on Steve’s memoband before he could reply and Bucky pulled away before Steve accepted the call. Steve felt the warmth slowly cease, the soft evening breeze taking over the space that Bucky had recently occupied.

“Steve, we have a situation.”

It was comforting to hear Sam on the other end, relieved with not having to build a facade; he didn’t have that kind of energy.  

“Durami is calling for all agents to report back to base, immediately,” Sam continued.

Steve frowned. “How come he didn’t call me?”

“Well, we are meant to be on assignment together.” Sam replied. “I’ll meet you at your place so we can head over together. Doesn’t look to good if we arrive separately. ”

“Okay,” Steve pressed his fingers into his forehead, “yeah I’ll see you there.”

Steve gave an apologetic look, Bucky just smiled. Something had changed between them, something Steve couldn’t place but it felt warm. He would never admit it but Steve walked back a lot slower than necessary, soaking in the last rays of the sun sauntering next to him.   

Having never unpacked, Steve grabbed his bag and started making his way to the hovercar. Bucky had insisted to walk him to the docking bay—something about not wanting him to get lost.

Steve threw the bag on the passenger side and turned for one last glance.

“Don’t do anything stupid before I get back.”

“As someone who prefers ignoring logic, I don’t think you have any right to say that.” He gave a loose smile.

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve laughed.

“Have to be, punk.” He pulled Steve into a hug, it’s too brief, “alright, get out of here.”

Bucky watched as Steve brought the hovercar through the opening in the ceiling. He only turned by the time Steve saw him as a speck on the ground.

Steve drove until he passed the last of the city’s buildings and activated the autopilot.

Not one inch of him wanted to sleep—he didn’t even feel that he could—but he would have to at least try. After about an hour of restlessness he gave up and instead sat, eyes closed. He must have eventually fallen asleep, as he woke to an intruding sound. It was the console notifying him that he was ten minutes out from his place.

Steve felt the dread creep in, it settled in his fingers. He had no desire to come face-to-face with Durami again and he wasn’t sure what he would do when he did. It would take everything for Steve to hold back from punching the Director right there and then.

Steve pulled the hovercar into the empty space in front of his apartment and killed the engine. He sat in the new silence, a soft hum filling his ears.

Sam was already there and Steve stepped out, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer.

“When are we due to report?”

“Right about now,” Sam replied.

Steve nodded. “How was France?”

“Ah, not bad, great when there’s no mission.” Sam laughed.  

Given the circumstances, it was still calming to see Sam again. With everything that had happened, all the choices he was left with, it was good to have someone from before.

 

~

 

Steve had been nineteen when he first met Sam Wilson. It was the autumn of 2290 and Steve had been sitting in the middle of a circle multiple textbooks. He was hunched over a memoband, squinting from the glare of the sun, despite snagging some shade from the overhanging tree.

“Mind if I sit here? I’m having the same trouble.” The man gestured to the memoband.

“Sure, but I tell you now, the shade doesn't really help.”

He just shrugged and plopped down beside Steve on the outskirts of the textbooks. They both went to their holopads for several minutes before the guy spoke again, “Wow, this really does suck.”

Steve chuckled. “I did warn you.”

“What you studying?”

“Uh, art history,” Steve replied, reluctantly.

“Huh, wouldn’t have pegged you for that. You wanna do it yourself one day?” the man asked. Steve’s confusion must have been evident. “Be an artist?” he added.

“ _Oh,_ I haven’t figured that out yet. Doesn’t seem to much of a need for them anymore.”

“Course there is, if everything continues they way it does, I think people are going to need it,” he paused, reading Steve’s reaction. “I’m Sam by the way.”

“Steve.” He held out his hand. Sam took it.

“Nice to meet ya, now what do you say to packing these things up and finding a productive place to study?”

“I’m pretty sure it was productive until you showed up.” Steve hoped it wasn’t too harsh, but quickly dismissed the notion when Sam laughed and one he could tell was real.  

Steve quickly packed his collection of textbooks and slung the bag over his shoulder. Sam hadn’t got a chance to unpack _,_ so once Steve had all his things, Sam led the way to the path. Steve lugged the bag so he carried them on both shoulders and quickly caught up to Sam’s long strides.

Steve was far from just following him down a university walkway now. He wasn’t sure what changed. What made him almost completely pack up art and switch to a wildly different path. Realism had taken hold of him though. You couldn’t afford a different mindset in these times. Sam had tried to persuade Steve to keep what he was doing, but in the end it wasn’t any use. Sam eventually saw that and did the only thing he could do; accept it. As much as Steve loved art, in the big picture, it really didn’t help people. He was still an idealist at heart, somewhere deep, he just no longer let it drive him. It was all about survival of himself and everyone he could help stay alive.

They had both applied for the military within three years.

 

**~**

 

Steve was now seriously considering if it was all worth it. Dropping art, something that had always given him peace for what should have been giving everyone peace, instead it just seemed like he was contributing to the destruction.

Sam started walking, unprompted. He seemed to read that Steve was calculating something and left him to it. Steve didn’t miss the careful glances he gave, however. He wanted desperately to update him, knowing that Sam would have something to say about it. Some sharp wisdom he would make obvious. But he couldn’t, not yet, not in the open.

Steve found his mind drifting back to Bucky, the steadiness, his warmth. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed him until he had that moment.

They arrived at the base too soon, he would have to put his musings on hold. Steve shared a glance with Sam before they both stepped through. It looked like every special ops division were waiting on the other side. Durami stood behind a podium, in front of them all.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Wilson, glad you could join us.”

Steve led them both to stand beside their own division. A few nodded at their arrival.

“We have a traitor in our midst. So given the circumstances, it’s time you knew.”

Durami let the words hang in the air, bouncing off the metal walls. “A year ago, there was a soldier much like all of you. Young, full of hope.”

Steve didn’t like where this was going, didn’t like it at all.

“He was chosen early on to be part of the special ops program, a clear candidate; smart, decisive and extremely loyal.” He paused. “Or so we thought.”  

Steve wanted to kill him where he stood. He didn’t dare move a muscle.

“James Barnes was damn good agent but one slip was all it took to be deterred from seeing the big picture. He could only see what was in front of him.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. This was the last thing any of them needed and Steve had a hard time keeping a placid face. His breaths were getting more and more uneven.

“But he isn’t the traitor I’m referring to today,” Durami continued. Steve hung on to every word. “He was lost to us long ago.”

He locked eyes with Steve who clenched his jaw shut from shouting out. Instead, he backed away as slowly as he could without drawing attention from the other operatives. Deep down he knew that was no use.

“Captain Steve Rogers assisted in the escape of James Barnes and in doing so risked the successfulness of our overall mission.”

Steve stopped backing away and glared with a hardness that he was unfamiliar with. Durami, of all things, smirked.

“Arrest him.”

 

**~**

 

He tapped his foot without rhythm.

It had been two days. Steve hadn’t slept. Durami had most likely by now set every available agent on the hunt. The only saving grace was that he didn’t suspect Sam. As much as Steve trusted that Sam would make it back to the SHIELD base in time, the uncertainty had still built with an uncompromising flow.

Steve lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He was reminded of when he was a new recruit, before everything was twisted and grey. The only thing that had separated the room from a prison cell was the single smeared and cracked skylight in the centre. That and the rows of bunks methodically squashed together, clothing carelessly strewn on the bedposts. The light snores of the other agents who had no problem sleeping. The paint was the same.

A chorus of synchronized footsteps approached his cell. Steve continued tapping, facing forward.  

A set of keys jangled and he listened as the cell door slid open. He knew before looking that it was Durami on the other side. There were two guards either side of him.

Durami gestured and they grabbed Steve who was doing everything he could to make moving him difficult. It was trivial and he didn’t care.  

They walked Steve to the Director’s office and shoved him into the chair that sat by the desk. Durami took the seat across from him. Steve remembered the night he broke in and despite everything, found himself suppressing a chuckle; it was purely humourless.

Durami shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  

“You realize that releasing those files will be treason and your spot will be given to a more deserving citizen.”

Durami clasped his hands and placed them on the desk.  Steve was taken aback, he’d never considered that he would be one of the six thousand. It obviously showed because the Director leant back, a smugness taking over.

“I’m sorry sir, but if you thought that was your leverage on me, you’ll have to think again. I don’t give a fuck about my spot so threatening it will change nothing about the release of those files.”

“Then _what_?” Durami hissed. “What would you have in exchange?”

“You’re bargaining for your own classified documents, really?”

“It is imperative that they remain out of the public eye until we are absolutely ready.”

“Until you’ve manipulated them you mean.”

Durami twisted his lips, unimpressed.

“I’m not going to hand them over but I can agree to keep them safe _for now_.” Steve leant forward in his seat. “On one condition.”

 

**~**

 

Steve braced for another punch, it landed in his side, knocking the wind out of him.

“Captain, I really don’t want to continue this but you’ve backed me into a corner.”

“I can do this all day, “ Steve spat.

“What do you gain by preventing this mission?” Durami hissed. “This is the _only_ way to save them.”

“You’re not trying to the save the world, only part of it.”

A hologram appeared in the middle of the room. It showed, of all people, Bucky.

Durami stood straighter, the movement was abrupt.

“Agent Barnes,” Durami said, keeping the surprise out of his voice.

“Not your agent, you made damn sure of that.” Bucky replied.

Durami just twisted his mouth, a hint of annoyance falling through.

“You wanna know the fascinating thing about you, sir?”

“Do enlighten us.”

“Anthony Durami is a hardworking and unwavering individual who joined the military twelve years ago and quickly moved up in the ranks—he was successful in nearly all his missions.”

He glanced off screen, clearly reading off something.

“I assume you have a point.” The Director interrupted  and crossed his arms, shifting his weight.

“Well, I did say _nearly_ all. Unfortunately, Durami was killed in action on April 4, 2289, so I wanna know how I’m speaking to a dead man.“ He paused. “The answer of course is that you are not Anthony Durami.”

The Director’s face went impossibly still.

“The question that remains now,” Bucky continued, “is why you wanted to assume the identity of someone else, unless you wanted your past erased.

“This naturally peaked my interest and it took some heavy digging but the files of Alexander Pierce were never truly deleted.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile.

The Director turned suddenly and faced him. “Did you know about this?” he hissed.

Steve spoke with that same smirk, not looking at Pierce at all, instead locking eyes with Bucky. “Wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Listen here Director.” Bucky grabbed his attention again. “As of now the _only_ copy of those files are here.” He showed a memoband on screen.

“You want them kept under wraps I assume, with all that dirty stuff you did, so you let Steve go, you let him go right now or I swear to god I’ll release them now.” Bucky paused and heaved a breath. “This ain’t me bluffing, not one bit.”

“Our enemies are your enemies; starvation, extinction. My team was just willing to take the step to defeat them.”

“That’s some twisted bullshit right there, Pierce. I read every goddamn line of those files.”

“You can’t possibly comprehend what those missions were,” he retaliated.

“Yeah? Then why did you make such an effort to hide them?”

Steve could practically see the agitation rolling off of Pierce. He didn’t reply.

“Bucky,” it was slightly louder than a whisper. Bucky flicked his eyes to face Steve, a terrible look inflicted upon him, “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”

“There’s nothing to regret I swear, Steve.” He gave a smile, filled with sadness.

Steve held his gaze, not daring to let go.

“You got two minutes to sort out your priorities.” Bucky spoke to Pierce.

The screen disappeared and the room was left with a chilling quiet. Steve felt his breaths shorten, he couldn’t get them under control.

Pierce had almost lost all composure. He brushed past and left the room without another word.

Steve had finally got a grasp on his racing heart and began the impossible task of escaping. Though Steve had a good read of the Director, he couldn’t rely on Pierce taking the deal.

The metal restraints ensured that there was no space to twist or move in any way. The only way he was getting out of them on his own was by breaking his hand.

Steve measured each breath. He clenched his teeth in an attempt to constrain the pain then pulled his arm back in one quick jerk.

The pain spiked through his whole arm and he ground his teeth together to quieten an impeding howl. Any slight movement sent a distinct sharpness through his wrist. He tried to ignore it as he reached for the controller on the table beside him. It was just outside of his normal reach and Steve grimaced as he stretched out. His finger came in to contact and he flicked it towards the chair. Without a second more wasted Steve grabbed the controller and loosened the restraints.  

His left arm lay limp at his side and Steve pushed himself up with great effort out of the chair. He backed into the wall and glanced out the small window on the door. Deserted. In one movement Steve swung the door open and was out in the hallway. He was deep into an unfamiliar part of the base and had no clue if the turns he was taking were leading him out or in even deeper.

Steve passed what looked to be a weapons room in the arrangement of a lab. He cautiously moved towards it and the door slid open automatically.

Inside he found an assortment of weapons, some of which he hadn’t seen before. He took two of the nearest guns and on further inspection realized that slight adjustments had been made on them. Steve didn’t linger on wondering what they did.

He was about to leave when he spotted a silver glint peeking from underneath a pile of tools. Steve pulled it out to examine and found it to be a small metal triangle. It had a strap connected the back; the whole thing was incredibly light. Steve slipped his arm through and gave a closer look. He couldn’t find anything to push so instead he shook it. With a graceful motion, it expanded into a circular shield. It shuddered with the movement. Without any extra thought he left, feeling less vulnerable.  

It was strange to walk through a place he was no longer welcome.

Steve kept the shield high and his gun low, the pain in his arm having reduced to a constant ache. He could almost hear the seconds tick by knowing that every one that passed meant he was closer to someone finding out that he was loose.

Eventually, he heard footsteps. Even with the distance Steve could tell they were heavy. As they neared, he could place a voice to them; Pierce. Steve placed his back against the wall and not wanting the Director to find him with a weapon prototype, he shook his arm again, The shield snapped shut into its original form and Steve managed to tuck it inside his tack gear just as Pierce rounded the corner.

He stopped and surveyed Steve. He didn’t comment on him escaping, merely said. “The deal’s been made, come with me.”

Steve had been placed in handcuffs and he tried his hardest not to grimace at the pain that they caused on his arm. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

He watched as Pierce stared head on at Steve in the dim light of the hovercar. They’d been driving for well over an hour and not a word had been spoken.

Steve broke the silence. “You know, just think about my offer, otherwise I can’t guarantee to stop anything to happen to the files.”

Pierce let out a harsh laugh. ”Do you think I’m going to honour that after the stunt Barnes pulled?”

“Plans change, Rogers.”

“Yes, I suppose they do.”

Pierce gave him a strange look, but neither of them said any more for the remainder of the journey. Steve was fine with that, he wasn’t about to make small talk.

Finally the hovercar pulled to a gradual stop. Night had taken the evening into a hollow darkness. They were far enough away from civilization that no street light reached them. They were at the mercy of the stars.

Another hovercar loitered in the dark patch, he recognized it to be Sam’s. As he moved round to the front of the Director’s car, the door of the other clicked open.

Bucky stepped out alone and Steve could see that there were no other passengers.  

He calmly and confidently walked towards Steve but his face was nearly unreadable. Pierce still had a hand firmly on Steve’s arm, thankfully not his broken one.

Bucky held up a small hard drive. “As promised, all the data of one Alexander Pierce.”

“You expect me to believe this is the only copy?"

“I don’t expect you to believe anything, Director. You can believe anything you want, don’t mean it’s right,” Bucky replied coldly.

He snatched the hard drive briskly and turned to Steve. As he went for the lock, Steve lent in. “Think about what I said on the way here. I can find more leverage easily enough.”

He didn’t reply, just finished loosening the handcuffs and stepped back. Pierce had shown his true colours back at the base and they both knew who had the high ground.

Pierce didn’t waste anymore time and slipped back into the car. The driver pulled away as soon as the door had shut.

As soon as they were out of sight, Steve turned to Bucky who before he could do anything, hauled Steve into a tight embrace. It was wordless. He sagged into the warmth, forgetting about his broken wrist until Bucky caught it as they hugged. Steve let out an involuntary sound and Bucky pulled away immediately.  

“What is it?” Bucky worried.

“Broke my wrist getting out of the restraints.”

“You’re such a punk. I made the deal so you wouldn’t have to do something stupid like that.”

“Guess I got a bit enthusiastic to see you again.” Steve tugged at his own lip with his teeth.

Bucky caught the gesture and his eyes flicked down.

The lights from the car illuminated the side of Bucky’s face and his eye glinted. His lips were parted, the soft red drawing him closer.  

He took in every strand of Bucky. Steve wasn’t seeing the physical anymore, it was undeniable—Bucky _was_ beautiful but there was so much more.  

The boy who walked with starlight in his eyes.

Steve watched him now, soaking up every missed second that they were apart. Time that was unrecoverable, moments never shared.

Infinite possibilities that never came to pass.

It was true, so much had changed—there was an inevitability to that—but there were constants, too. Constants that the universe couldn’t begin to shift. An unceasing rift, pulling apart and pushing together in an inescapable cycle. Steve was okay with that because his constant, was Bucky.

It started so gently that Steve could barely feel Bucky’s lips on his. They skimmed with a light grace. It was lingering and breathless. They paused, fixating endlessly onto each other. Steve raked his hand through Bucky’s hair. It wasn’t rough, but with the same gentleness as the kiss. Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve and he could feel his smile; soft and tentative. They moved together in synchronization. The second kiss was longer, the softness becoming ever so slightly more intense.    

Bucky glanced down and linked his fingers through Steve’s. The metal being warmer than Steve expected. He squeezed gently and Bucky turned to smile at him.

Reluctantly, Steve let go when they got into the car and with Steve sitting on the right, he wasn’t able to start up again from the throbbing in his left arm. Bucky just lent over and kissed his shoulder. He flicked his eyes up to Steve, a loose smile on his lips before lifting up off the ground and heading out into the night. Steve fell asleep content and with a warmth that had spread all over.  

He was awoken by a hand cupping his chin. He blinked, still exhausted to find Bucky beside him. Steve turned in his seat, but inhaled sharply at the remembrance of his wrist.

“Come on, Steve,” Bucky said, still fresh eyed. “The bed isn’t far away but we gotta get that arm of yours in a sling.”

Steve nodded deliriously. They walked with an arm slung over each others shoulder to the med bay. He could barely keep his eyes open but he could tell they were back at the SHIELD base. Panic rose inside him.

“Buck?”

Bucky glanced sideways. “Yeah Steve?”

“What if they followed us?” he mumbled.

“They didn’t. Don’t worry, it was taken care of.”

Bucky sat him down on an examination table where the lights burned. He carefully took Steve’s tac gear. It was a slow process but eventually the vest dropped to the floor. Steve watched then, eyes half-lidded as a doctor took his arm to examine and scan. He was too tired to feel the pain, or maybe they had given him something. The doctor spoke to Bucky who nodded, but Steve couldn’t tell what had been said.

His arm was placed in a sling and a med-patch was placed on his shoulder. Steve felt the throbbing numb within a minute.

When all was done Bucky guided him to the bedroom. Steve took off his boots and without another wasted second, slipped under the covers, lying on his back. Bucky somehow still standing, got changed. Steve did his best—and failed—not to stare, before Bucky got under the covers too. Previously they had been using separate covers but now he was overcome with relief as Bucky’s legs wrapped around his own. Bucky nuzzled his head into Steve’s hair and slipped his arm over his stomach.

Steve was already drifting in and out of consciousness but he fell into a dreamless sleep soon after.

 

**~**

 

Bucky had moved during the night so his head now rested on top of Steve. He remembered it happening distantly. Stiffness had locked between his joints from being in the same position for so long. Steve shifted and felt the old ache rooted in his shoulder.

“Mornin,” Bucky mumbled into Steve’s chest. He grabbed at some of his t-shirt and sighed.  

“Morning, Buck.” Steve reached down to stroke Bucky’s hair who hummed and buried his face deeper into the covers.

Steve pressed further into the pillow then was hit with a wave of dread. “Sam. Is he okay? He made it back alright?.”

“Yeah he was fine. They didn’t suspect him and still don’t,” Bucky replied calmly.

Steve nodded and rested his head back again. It had been a while since he’d been able to catch a moment of calm like this. Even then it hadn’t been with Bucky, not how they were now.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

“I am now,” he looked up, “you gave us quite the panic.”

Steve linked hands with Bucky knowing that by _us_ he really meant _me_. “I’m right here.”

Bucky stared at their hands threaded together as if he would disappear.  

“I’m not about to lose you too—not over a mission.”

“Arguably the most important one of our lives.”

Bucky shifted, gripping Steve’s hand tighter.

“Steve,” he warned.

“I know, I made a promise and it’s one I fully intend to keep to the end of the Earth, but if it comes between the world and me,” Steve hesitated, “who am I to choose myself?”

Bucky didn’t reply just heaved a sigh that carried so much in itself.

The two loyalties would surely contradict themselves soon enough. The deal he’d made with Pierce burned in his mind at that reminder.

“What is it?” Bucky asked eventually.

“I’m not sure.” Steve replied honestly. “I guess I just like to know who we’re fighting.”

His reply hung in the air, and Steve realized how unbelievably simple that sentence was.

“You’re not invincible, Steve.” Bucky shifted slightly, forcing Steve to meet his gaze. “No one expects you to know the answer to everything. All anyone has is the next choice ahead and with each choice comes the chance to do better; however small.”

“The right thing isn’t exactly clear at the moment.”

“Well, no one ever said it was easy.” He shrugged. Steve huffed a laugh.

“Remember you’re not alone in this either. The consequences won’t fall only on you.”

“I know, I know.”

Bucky lifted their hands, still linked and kissed Steve’s. It broke him out of the downward spiral he’d found himself on. _Hold on to this peace._

They lay there until the simulated sunlight seeped through the edges of the walls.

“Come on, you’ve got a check-up appointment to get to. I convinced the doctor to leave the rest ’til the morning.”  

Steve had almost forgotten about his arm, with everything else it hardly seemed a priority.  

Bucky somehow anticipated Steve’s reaction, “Yes.” He matched Steve’s child-like groan. “Don’t even think about resisting.”

Steve got up without another word.

“You’re not staying in those clothes.” There was no question in Bucky’s tone.

Steve didn’t admit that it was mainly because of the pain of moving his arm that he’d neglected to change. He moved to his bag and took out his only other clothes he’d brought. Both still were covered in dirt and dust.

Already dressed, Bucky looked over and tossed him a shirt in response. Steve smirked at his timely anticipation. He began to work the shirt over his head but paused when his forearm throbbed with warning.

Bucky audibly sighed and walked round the bed to assist.

“You know, it isn’t such a bad thing to ask for help.”

“Hmm.”

Steve was still half in the fresh shirt and it was filled with Bucky’s scent. It was a mix of smells that brought on a warm feeling, though he wasn’t exactly sure if it was the actual smell or the person it was associated with.

When Bucky pulled the rest of the shirt over his head he was beaming.

“What are you so happy about?” But Bucky was smiling too.

Steve just closed the gap between them and kissed him. Both still smiling, Bucky moved into the kiss and moved his hands up to Steve’s face.

“Come on, you sap.” He lightly tugged at Steve who followed blindly.

Though it was early, the med bay was already bustling. Not every bed was taken but a fair few were. Clearly from late night missions or check ups like himself. None of the other patients gave him much attention but as soon as they entered, a doctor was already on the both of them.

“Mr Barnes,” the doctor said. “You kept your promise I see.” She didn’t bother to introduce herself.

Bucky smiled a little and looked sideways at Steve. Steve’s stomach fluttered.

“Yes, it was a struggle,” Steve punched him lightly, “but we made it.”

The doctor just smiled and motioned towards an empty bed. “I'll be right back, in the meantime you can get that sling off.”

Steve nodded and the doctor wandered into an adjacent room. Before he could even attempt to unstrap the sling, Bucky had already moved to do it. They were facing each other head on and Steve watched Bucky intently as he fiddled with the straps. A couple snagged and each time it would send his face into an endearing frown.

Steve’s lips tugged upwards both times not caring if anyone caught it.

The doctor returned with a scanner which came to life with ease. She instructed Steve to hold his arm out straight before she suspended the scanner over the top. Bucky stepped back, folding his arms. A green light was emitted as it hovered up to Steve’s shoulder. With a press of a button the light disappeared and the doctor’s memoband illuminated a reel of data.

After a few moments and a couple of hums she spoke up. “Well, the wrist is definitely broken with a possible slight break of the forearm, most likely the radius.”

She swiped up on the data and examined it more. “At this rate, with regular medpatch therapy, we’re looking at ten days recovery.”

Steve nodded.

“With actual rest,” she added pointedly. “Not what you agents usually call rest."

Steve lifted his good arm up in a surrender.

Ten days was longer than a break normally but he suspected the fracture added a few more days.

Reluctantly, Steve did listen to the doctor’s orders. This admittedly was mostly due to Bucky. His body was at least thankful for the rest.

For ten painstaking days their routine was just that, a routine. Steve would have probably lost his mind if it weren’t for Bucky.

_Bucky, Bucky, Bucky._

Every thought seemed to lead back to him.

It was happening the other way too. Steve would catch Bucky staring just that extra bit longer and more often. The lingering warmth that came with every touch was like stargazing on a late summer’s night.

After laying low for a few days, Sam arrived at the start of the second week.

“How the hell did you get out of that one Rogers?” Sam grinned, pulling Steve into a one armed hug.

“Well,” Steve glanced sideways, matching his grin, “I had some help.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow a smile taunting his lips. “Glad to see you’re not taking all the credit.”

“I would never.”

Sam looked between them a strange and knowing look on his face. Steve felt his cheeks flush.

“Really though,” Sam said guiding the conversation back. “What got Durami so scared?”

Bucky gave the full story including Steve’s ‘dumbass stunt’ of breaking his wrist. Sam gave a hearty laugh.

“That’s quite a move James, I gotta say.”

“Call me Bucky.”

“It’s a long story.” Steve said when Sam gave him another look.

“Sounds like it.” Sam replied lightly.    
  


**~**

 

“It’s decision time boys, all five go us have to decide right here what we’re doing with this information moving forward." Peggy stood with a fierceness and a determination Steve had only seen in small batches. “We don’t know Pierce’s timeline for this and we have to make our move _before_ they make theirs.”

It had been six days since the Pierce incident. It wasn’t a stretch to assume she had as much of an idea of what to do than the rest of them.  

“We are the only people who have read what’s on this drive and it’s going to remain so until we figure out the best direction to take this.”

“We have no idea how the public is going to take this.” Natasha started.

“We have to assume the worst.” Bucky replied.

“Worldwide panic.” Steve realized. “We need to figure out their timeline, get ahead of them. Let those ships remain as a failsafe. If we don’t find a way of surviving down here then we keep to their plan.”

“Giving the elite a chance at survival while the rest die?” Sam chimed in.

“We could force Pierce’s hand.” Natasha stood up from the table she had been leaning on. “Make the six thousand be chosen at random, without bias.”

“You run the risk of having only civilians on board a spacecraft without the means of survival.” Peggy contributed.

Steve sighed and glanced at Bucky who was dangerously quiet. Even when Steve stared, Bucky didn’t react.

“So let’s find the timeline. A project that big, there’s gotta be a launch date somewhere.”

“That’s too risky, Steve.”

Steve turned. “It’ll be worth it and besides, we’ve got a spy.”

Natasha looked up but did nothing more. The room went silent, only Bucky’s sigh distilled that.

“Can we get the timeline from here?” Bucky asked, finally.

“Not without placing a virus first,” Natasha replied, “but that can be done at one of their bases near here. It’s not the main base, so it’ll be way easier to infiltrate.”

“You didn’t seem to have an issue with the main one.” Steve said.

“No need for extra work, Rogers.”

“Is it worth the risk?” Bucky continued, ignoring Steve’s interruption.

“If you can get the virus into their system, we’ll be able to read every file, even the ones with a deeper encryption.”

Bucky nodded, “How long to make it?”

“Give me an hour.”

“Let’s get you three suited up.”

The armoury was impressive for an independent agency. It was in that moment, Steve realized he didn’t know the full extent of what SHIELD was.

“You’re welcome to anything, but may I offer some suggestions?”

Peggy picked out an assortment of guns, some of which looked conspicuously similar to the ones he saw in Pierce’s vault.

“Pierce’s division is constantly developing new technology. We have our sources relay the specs to us.”

“Do they work any differently than the standard models?” Sam held up the nearest gun.   

“Externally, no, it’s just the standard trigger but the inner works are a hell of a lot more efficient than anything else on the market.” Peggy answered.

“One more thing, those things stay on stun mode _only._ We’ve got sleeper agents you may come across. It’s a long shot but I’m not taking that risk.”

“How many are we talking?”

“Enough.”

When they returned, Natasha was halfway through suiting up herself, holoscreens abandoned.

“Now,” Peggy began, “Agent Romanov has got in contact with one of our sleepers. You’ll rendezvous with him and get access into the main console from there.”

Bucky nodded. “What does he know?”

Peggy understood immediately. “Nothing, and he won’t know your Op but he’s the only SHIELD agent that got close enough to Pierce to gain access to that room.”

“This operation stays within this room. The fewer people who know the truth, the fewer people who are accountable.”

The silence was enough of a reply.

The night came too soon. Bucky was still wary to enter a place they had barely been able to leave. Steve didn’t blame him but he also understood what was riding on the success of the mission.  

“I trust you were able to create a program?”

Natasha held up a drive barely bigger fingernail.  “Yep,” she continued to tuck in the rest of her hair, “in a few short hours, we’ll know everything Pierce wants hidden.”

Steve hoped there would be enough for leverage should it come down to that. Guilt twinged at the mere thought of needing to resort to bribes. He also knew it wasn’t much of a reach. 

The address they arrived at was nothing special, just another run down building. It was hard to believe what was actually housed behind the doors.  

Natasha led them through the exterior security measures with staggering ease. The four of them were at the entrance, completely undetected in under two minutes. If the rest of the mission went as smoothly they would surely be out in under forty.

Steve stared back into the harsh glow from the nearby streetlights. Sam nodded slowly. Bucky looked fixedly back at him, Steve didn’t dare break it, he wasn’t even sure he could. Even in the dim light, his eyes captured the likeness of stars.

They waited long enough for Steve to glance back at Natasha who was watching her memoband intently. He saw that the clock was visibly ticking each second away. Eventually she motioned to continue and Steve had to force himself to exhale after realizing he hadn’t taken a breath for some time.

Stepping through the doors was highly anticlimactic. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but there was hardly anyone around. Those who were, had better things to do than to look at a side entrance. Nobody cared they were inside. Strangely, it put the mission and the past few weeks in perspective.

As soon as the door to the outside slid shut, Natasha moved into a crouch and waited behind a set of crates. Carefully she looked into one corner of the ceiling. Steve realized she had the exact rotation of the cameras synced to her memoband. Natasha adjusted a dial and he had to alter his assumption as the camera shifted into the opposite direction.

Steve leant in. “Won’t they know something’s up?”

She shook her head. “I’ve just slowed down their screen’s reaction time. The cameras will still rotate, they aren’t on a loop; that’s too easy to spot. I’ve just given us a bigger window to move.”

He widened his eyes. A loop would have been the first thing he’d think of. Steve marvelled at the sheer skill, though that had been evident at their first meeting.

“Where are we meeting your contact?” Sam whispered.

“Nearer to the control room.” She smiled half sided. “Hold your horses, Wilson.”  

Sam held his arms up in surrender, a smile taunting his own lips.

The walk to the quieter hallways was excruciating with their destination being so close. Natasha didn’t seem to lose patience once. He wondered idly if it was a skill he could master.

She navigated them through the maze of cameras until they reached an empty hallway. The decor matched that of the base back home— a perfect rendition. It was an exact copy.  

The arranged meeting time came and passed them by with no appearance of the agent. They were the longest minutes of Steve’s life. He was vastly aware how open of an area it was.

“Isn’t he supposed to be here by now? What’s taking him so long?”

Natasha didn’t appear to be fazed. “I only act like I know everything, Rogers.”

Some time later—Steve had stopped counting—the door creaked open and Natasha readied her gun aiming at the opening. She dropped it when she saw who it was and in the corner of his eye Bucky did the same.

“Agent Thompson,” Natasha said curtly. “You’re late. We have timeframes for a reason.”

Agent Thompson was dressed in the standard special operative gear. Not much of his likeness could be viewed with him wearing it, but Steve could tell he was tense. He held himself with a certain awkwardness.

“I deeply apologize, Romanov. I’m sure you can make up the time seeing as how early you arrived.”

“I shouldn’t need to. What was the hold up?”

“Durami had a mission for me.” He said simply. Natasha didn’t push.

Thompson didn’t give her much choice either way as he turned abruptly; perhaps not wanting to waste any more time. They came to a sealed door at which he took out a keycard that he scanned against the wall. A bio scanner appeared and Thompson carefully showed his inner wrist. Then the door slid open and they were in. The room was fairly small but it was filled with a great arrangement of control panels and screens. It overlooked the main hanger bay, which was empty, save for a few smaller jets. The windows stretched for the entirety of the room except for the wall where they had entered.

The amount of switches and technology that Steve hadn’t seen before was overwhelming, but Natasha went straight to the data port.

The click of a gun echoed in the small space. Steve froze as did the rest of his team. Natasha sighed _very carefully._ He turned to find what he already knew he’d see. Agent Thompson had his gun pointed at Natasha.

“I’m sorry, I really am but you’re going to have to stop right there.”

“Come on Thompson, we don’t have time for this.” She sounded annoyed more than anything.

“I can’t risk jeopardizing my ticket outta here.”

So he knew. About _Project Insight_ and now knew what their next move was, even with everything Peggy had left out.

“Just put the gun down, man.” Sam bargained.

He just turned it on Sam instead. Steve watched as Natasha slowly, carefully placed the drive into the port. She noticed Steve and gave a nod, it was barely even a movement.  

“Woah, woah.“ Steve walked in front of the line of fire. Bucky gave him a look. It didn’t matter if Steve got shot. he needed to take Thompson’s attention away from Natasha for as long as her program could take over the system. He wasn’t even sure how long she needed but he was willing to stall as long as possible.  

“Please tell Director Carter I really didn’t mean for this to happen, but I hadn’t heard anything in _months_. I need to be on that ship.”

“We’ll be sure to pass it along.” Steve replied coolly.

Without any further warning, Thompson turned his gun to the left and fired a shot. Bucky fell immediately and one of the chairs wheeled across the floor. Steve glanced down, his jaw clenched. The only thing he could hear were his breaths. The edges of Bucky’s tac gear turned scarlet. Steve hadn’t even seen Bucky move but he understood now. He had kicked the chair, pushing both Sam and Steve away from the incoming bullet. He must have known Thompson was about to shoot.  

Steve knelt down, his brain replaying a feed of static.

“ _No_ ,” Steve said weakly.

Bucky reached out and nudged him away. Another shot fired and Agent Thompson hit the floor with a thud.

Bucky coughed and his gun clattered to the ground. “That’s how you aim, asshole.”

“Sam, lock the door.” Natasha’s voice cut through thinly. The words were so distant.

Sam stepped over Thompson and selected the lockdown option on the door. They were essentially trapped or they were going to be if they didn’t move fast.

As if he’d just driven under a bridge in a downpour, everything came back into focus in one sudden rush.

“Buck?”

This, this was his longest moment. Where he could almost see the seconds tick by, and dear god they were slow. Trust him to get into a fight with time.  

He placed his hand behind Bucky’s head whose eyes were fluttering in and out of focus.

“ _Buck?”_

“Yeah I’m here. That fucker had a lousy shot.”

“Looks pretty darn close to me,” he replied softly.

Bucky moved so he had his back against the wall. He grimaced, it was followed by a splutter.

“I’m fine.” He gave another look when Steve was obviously not convinced. “I’m fine _for now._ Now go make sure we don’t all die sooner.”

Steve still couldn’t move. Behind him, Natasha and Sam frantically moved around.

“Really,” Bucky added, moving his hand on Steve’s cheek. “I can handle this, just pass me the med kit.”

Steve took out the small box of medical supplies and handed them over. Bucky got to work. He was searching for something specific. Bucky rummaged for a blue patch and ripped open part of his vest then slapped the patch where the bullet had entered. Steve had never seen a compression patch be so sleek before, but already he could see it take effect. It would at least slow the bleeding until they could get to SHIELD.

Steve grabbed Thompson’s comms and listened. The sound of multiple footsteps filled the speaker.  

“Agent Thompson, do you have the prisoners contained?” A voice pierced through.

Steve placed the earpiece on the desk. “We have incoming.”

Natasha sighed impatiently. “The program isn’t downloaded yet and we can’t just leave it plugged in.”

“How long left?”

“No clue, three minutes max.”

Steve turned towards the door. “We don’t have that long.”

“It’ll take that long just to get down the hallway with Bucky. ”

Bucky looked at him with mock offence.

“You three should go,” Steve said.

“And why does that help anybody?” Natasha asked, cutting off both Sam and Bucky’s protests. “The drive will still be here.”

“I’ll draw their attention towards me, long enough for you to get away.”

“And how are you planning to get out of that situation?” Bucky spluttered.

“Haven’t decided that one yet.” Steve replied simply.

“We’re running out of time.” Sam supplied.

“Then go. Seriously, I’m right behind you.”

Natasha moved towards one of the control panels and started typing furiously. He knew there was no more time left to argue so Steve started to help Bucky up. They were close enough to whisper.

“Do you even try to be reckless or does it just come naturally?” Bucky gave a small smile. Steve knew it was to block out the worry.

“I’ll be okay.”

“You better.”

Bucky hobbled his way into a hug and gripped on tightly. He wasn’t sure it was entirely for the balance.

Steve helped the three of them get into some sort of position that would allow them to walk. Bucky had one arm slung over their shoulders and they began their trek.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at the last second. “Oh, I’ve disabled all the keycards. Once that doors locked again they won’t be getting through at least for a bit longer.”

“Thanks, Nat.”

She did well to conceal her surprise, just nodded. Her face became slightly unknitted.  

He turned away as soon as she shut the door and went straight to the earpiece. Steve flicked the switch for two-way communication and slotted it into an ear.

“Jack Thompson, report.” The voice now had a filtered urgency.

“This is Steve Rogers, is there something I can help you with?”

“Captain Rogers.” A new voice spoke. Steve knew that voice. “Is this your way of ensuring a deal is kept? Because it really isn’t a great strategy.”

Steve did everything to keep his voice light. “Oh, don’t worry Director,” he took out the shield from his jacket. He shook it and like before, it slotted into place. “I’m about to get all the leverage I could hope for.”

Steve hoped it had Pierce squirming.   

“Is that so?” Pierce replied slyly. Then quieter, “He’s in the control room.”

Then the comms went silent and Steve was left to pace. It had been almost two minutes alone and Natasha’s drive still pulsed orange. All he could do was stare and hope he could make an exit before Pierce arrived at the door.

It wasn’t much longer before he heard the approaching footsteps, no longer through any speaker. Steve peered down and saw that the drive was now flashing green. He hastily took it out of the socket and slid it in an inside pocket.

He ran to the door and peeked through the circular pane of glass, just as a set of boots turned the corner. He backed himself to the wall beside it. It was then when his reality sunk in. The room was completely glass and suspended to the equivalent of four stories.

There was an insistent banging at the door. They rang in his ears like a ticking clock. Each one reinforced the truth of his only escape option.

Steve gave himself three more knocks.

 _One._ Steve took out his gun and aimed.

 _Two._ He fired and the glass splintered.

 _Three._ One breath. He ran and brought the shield up by his head and torso.

Steve smashed into the weakest part of the glass and it flew _everywhere_. The ground was coming at him too fast.

It wasn’t like everyone said.

There was only a split second when he moved in slow motion; just enough time for his stomach to drop. Then he was back in real time.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Someone said, he wasn’t he sure how he had heard it.

Steve managed to get the shield beneath him just as he smacked right into the floor.

It was like the moment after diving into water. All the noise of the world completely sucked away and all that’s left is the stillness.

His chest ached.

Steve couldn’t even begin to move, his lungs fought for the lost air.

It came back in one rapid surge. His ears singed with a sharp ringing.

Someone was beside him, and Steve got ready to fight despite everything his body was telling him. He staggered up. A hand steadied his trembling steps. His breathing was ragged. The mere thought of lifting up his head made him light-headed.

“I really wanna know your thought process coming up with that as an exit strategy.” It was Sam.

“They got to the door,” Steve breathed, already hobbling forward.

Sam nodded gravely, helping as much as he dared. Steve realized as he neared that it was Bucky who had spoken during his fall, he looked visibly shaken. It was mixed with well earned disbelief.

“We gotta go.” Steve cut off any start of a protest.

“How are we going to do this?” Nat started. “Neither of you can walk by yourselves.”

“We’ll manage.” Steve walked to Bucky’s side and pulled his free arm over Steve’s shoulder; a silent apology. “We always do.”

He was painfully aware how slow they were moving in such an empty space.

An elegant jet came into view. The exterior was cased in a material he hadn’t come across before. It was otherwise empty except of two words painted on its side; _The Valkyrie._  

“Sam, can you take over? I’m going to go up ahead to see if it’s clear.” Nat spoke in hushed and urgent tones.

Sam nodded and took her place as she prowled ahead.

“Have we got ground support?”

“Yeah, Romanov radioed ahead. Agent Carter sent a car.”

 _One foot in front the other_.  

“You okay?”

Sam smirked. “Thanks to this guy.”

Bucky moved his head up at that. He was dangerously pale, he smiled weakly. Steve watched the steady stream of blood trickle down his jacket.

Finally, _finally_ they made it outside, they were too early for the car.

The back of his neck bristled. Pierce’s team had made it to their level.

The panic that had settled itself at the edge bristled to the surface. There was still a lot of ground to cover. They would have to run. He would have to buy them time if they were going to have any chance to all get out.

“They’re here.” Steve managed. “You guys get outta here.”

“No chance,” Sam countered, heaving them forward. His voice carried so much weight. “I’m not letting my superior officer _and_ my best friend walk into the line of fire again.”

He turned around, still supporting both Steve and Bucky and took out his gun. Sam zeroed in on the door. Steve moved the shield over Bucky’s back, wishing he had another to cover Sam, but, he wasn’t injured.

He was torn between getting Bucky to safety and helping Sam. Bucky had his eyes shut. It terrified Steve how still he was.

They picked up the pace, but Bucky stumbled over the new speed.

“Buck?” he whimpered, “Buck you gotta stay with me. We don’t have far.”

Steve cupped his face and Bucky blinked like he’d just been disturbed from a dream.

Bullets flew past, cutting by far too close. They needed to get to cover but there was barely anything to use.

He knew if it were just him he would have taken the risk and run, but Bucky wouldn’t have made it and Sam or Natasha certainly wouldn’t. The bullets came as a steady stream now. Sam was doing all he could to keep them back but he was seriously outnumbered. Steve pushed Bucky behind the nearby crates who grunted to the floor. He was almost unconscious again.

“Bucky!” he almost screamed. “Listen to me, you have to stay awake, goddamnit _. Please.”_

“I can’t hold on much longer, Steve.” His voice was so small, weak, Steve almost missed it.

He leant down, both hands around Bucky’s face. “I’m coming back.”

Steve kissed him and Bucky’s eyelashes fluttered open. He tasted like an ocean’s wave, the salt from his sweat dripping onto his lips. It pained Steve to pull away.

Pierce’s team had almost surrounded them. They were making small movements to cut off the exit. Steve took off running. The sound of the gunfire was deafening. The noise bounced on every surface it could find. He crouched underneath a jet and waited as an unsuspecting agent moved closer. Steve had no intention of giving his position away until he was certain he would have the drop.

He went for the legs. The other agent fell on the spot. Steve knocked the gun out of his hands. The agent moved his arms over his face just as Steve landed a strike on his skull. It wasn’t a clean punch but it did the job. Steve’s knuckles split. Blood was getting everywhere. The agent moved to grab Steve’s wrists but he twisted out of the hold before the agent got any leverage. He gave one last quick jab and the agent went motionless. It was an absurd contrast from the desperate and jagged movements they’d made moments ago. Steve didn’t have time to linger on the thought and that itself was disturbing.

He started running again, at which point it became clear that Pierce had made him. Pierce slunk further into the base. Something glinted in the streetlights—a flash of silver in converging darkness. It had come from above. Steve squinted, it was Natasha. She had made it onto the roof.

Another agent aimed towards him and Steve rolled at the last second. Still on the floor, he spun around and kicked at the agent’s ankles. They stumbled backwards but stayed upright. Steve was up on his feet again. He was about to start punching when the agent dropped to the floor. Blood pooled from a perfect hole in his head.

A quick glance to the side confirmed that Sam had made the shot. Steve nodded in appreciation, Sam returned the gesture. Natasha still hadn’t made a shot. It occurred to him that everyone on the ground, save for a few stray agents, were still safe from the overhang. Those few agents weren’t worth giving away her location. Steve would have to draw them rest out.

By now his ears were ringing again. It was persistent, pulsing, much like an alarm. It was fitting, really. From his distance the bullets swarmed like a flock of birds diving for their prey. They were uncompromising and completely indiscriminate. Steve’s chest beat out of sync of his pounding head, creating a mad symphony of disconnected sounds.

He shot two more agents, who dropped unceremoniously. Then he hurtled right into the core of the fight.

“Didn’t you just jump out of a suspended glass room?” Sam shouted over the spray not bothering to pause his shooting.  

“What can I say? I couldn’t just leave my wingman behind.”

Sam’s face did a funny thing, a strange gratitude, like Steve’s words were a confirmation he wasn’t expecting to hear.  

The original team had doubled by now, Pierce obviously calling for reinforcements. Steve wasn’t going to get that drive out safe easily. He moved to a position they had practiced in a simulation. Their backs pressed against each other. It was a simple stability within the encircling flux.

“Nat’s on the roof,” Steve almost whispered. “We need to draw this lot out so she gets a shot. We can’t take them all ourselves.”

A car surged into park and Peggy charged out of the driver’s seat. She didn’t rush, didn’t run but took purposeful steps. She had a gun in both hands and threw them up mid-step. The shots landed perfectly.  

Steve turned the rest of his focus back to the fight. He shot at the oncoming storm of new agents while making the gentle shift backwards out of the overhang. They followed without delay, walking into a trap of their own design.

Natasha waited for most of the agents to emerge before she even aimed at the first one. It wasn’t long until the majority lay on top of each other.

“At least let us get a shot in,” Sam called up.

“Get a move on then!”

The fire was over in under a minute. It was silent as the world settled back into an absurd stillness.

Bucky was still slumped over. All remaining colour had drained from his cheeks. Steve scooped him up and  Bucky’s head lolled to the side.

Peggy threw the back door open and Sam clambered in. She turned back to Steve and fired two more shots over his shoulder. He distantly heard two separate thuds. Her poise never once slipped.

He lay Bucky on the floor of the car then got in himself.

“Nat’s still on the roof,” Sam said, already taking off his helmet.

“She’ll know we’re coming.” Peggy replied.

Steve didn’t take a seat instead he knelt beside Bucky who still made no move. Thankfully, as Steve placed a hand on his chest, he still felt breathing. It was frighteningly shallow.

“Steve.” Sam reached and took his shoulder. ”There’s nothing more we can do til we get to base. The compressor will do it’s thing until then.”

Steve could only nod. The pressure in his own chest was still present. Now that the shooting had stopped he realized just how much each breath hurt to take.

“You doing okay, there?” Sam frowned.

Steve’s voice was scratchy, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

His chest burned. Pain stabbed at his side with every inhale.

Steve didn’t even register himself losing consciousness.


	6. The Six Thousand

Bright lights.  
  
They burned through his eyelids. Their shapes lingering long after they had passed, too fast for his eyes to adjust. Steve couldn’t begin to open them; he wasn’t sure that was just the lights. They flashed in and out of his vision. A harsh blur entwined in darkness.  
  
He heard faint, overlapping voices. They seemed frantic, but he couldn’t be sure.  
  
He had been in the middle of something. He had a vague vague sense of recently being terrified. Not for what could happen but for what had. It was on the tip of his tongue. Taunting him from the edge of his mind.  
  
Then everything went dark and still.  


  
**~**

 

There was a song. The words danced in the corner of his mind. Steve recognized it but couldn’t remember where from. He knew that song inside and out.  
  
One part of it repeated, and the sound increased with each repetition.  

  
~ 

  
The warmth swarmed his body. Steve didn’t need to open his eyes to notice the bruises across his chest, they felt soul-deep.  
  
He blinked purposefully to shake the spots out of his eyes from the too-bright lights.     
  
Sam sat in a chair beside him. His eyes were closed and his head slightly drooped. It looked as if he’d been there some time.  
  
Bucky.  
  
Steve shifted. It was as if barbed wire had been twisted into his abdomen. He hissed in a sharp breath as he turned to his side.  
  
Bucky lay, bare-chested in a bed next to him. The bandages were still tinted red. He looked peaceful—all things considered.

  
Steve reached his arm out and the pain reached his brain. Dizziness washed over him. He took Bucky’s hand. It was cold.    
  
“Steve?” Sam spoke from behind. His voice was a mix of calm and surprised. “Steve, you can’t get up. You’re still healing.”  
  
Steve didn’t listen. Bucky’s hand was cold and it shouldn’t be, couldn’t be.  
  
He sat up too quickly. The room warped.  
  
“Goddamnit, Steve, lie down.” Sam pushed Steve back on the bed. Steve felt too weak even to try pushing away.  
  
His whole body ached. It wasn’t like a bruise, but like a tenderness that ran bone deep. The throbbing sank into every muscle.  
  
Darkness threatened his eyes, it converged on him from all sides. The last thing he saw was Sam, concern etched in his features, wide-eyed and a frown on his face.

  
  
**~**

  
The comfort of a hand in his had disappeared. It was the first thing he noticed when he woke the second time.  
  
His eyelids felt glued shut. Steve opened them gradually. Sam sat in the same chair. He couldn’t have been out for too much longer. Only, Bucky wasn’t in the bed beside him anymore.  
  
Steve rarely learnt from experience in these moments, and jolted up without any regard for his health.  
  
“Again? Really dude?” Sam got up from the chair. He spoke evenly, if a little exasperated.  
  
The feeling of pressure in his chest had reduced substantially. He was surprised with how much better he felt.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“You punctured a lung.”  
  
Steve was so taken aback that he momentarily forgot what he had actually meant by the question.

  
“They think it happened after you leapt out of the control room. The hole was relatively small, but after our scrap, the your lung collapsed."    
  
His head throbbed.  
  
“Bucky was here.” He went to move.  
  
“Just slow down.”  
  
“Sam, where is he?” he strained.  
  
“In the sleeping quarters.” Sam said. “The Doc got him to move after the first week, said that sleeping in a chair was hindering his recovery.”  
  
“Bet he was pleased with that.”  
  
Sam raised his eyebrows and shrugged. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips.  
  
“The first week?”  
  
“You’ve been coming in and out of consciousness for almost a month. We weren’t sure you were gonna pull through.”  
  
A month. A lot could go wrong in a month.     
  
“Are you okay? You made it to Nat in time?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah everything’s good,” Sam said, “We’re in a bit of a stalemate but it’s calm at least.”

  
  
**~**

  
“I sent Sam to get some sleep, just us now.”  
  
The words slipped into his mind, a memory too close. It was fuzzy. He could feel the touch, but it was numb.  
  
“You’re gonna pull through, Steve, you gotta. I’m not letting you quit on me now.”  
  
The voice was so distant, muffled. Even then, Steve heard the desperation, hidden so carefully. Then again, Bucky would have had years of practice to mask it.  
  
“I only just got you back.” He paused. Steve wished he could see Bucky’s face. “God that was sappy, Barnes.”  
  
He sighed. Steve listened.    
  
“No, that was, well I don’t actually know.”  
  
The numbness spread across Steve’s cheek. It was comforting and fleeting.    
  
“Probably shouldn’t bring this up, all things considered, but it woke me up this morning.  
  
“It was a day from the orphanage. I’d been there a few weeks by then. Just long enough to get convinced it was my new home, that I’d stay.”  
  
There was a sharp inhale.  
  
“You were trying to teach me some draw, even let me use your nice pencils. I thought it was a waste for me to use them. I sketched you, or tried at least.”  
  
Steve wished desperately he could respond, but everything remained out of reach.  
  
“Don’t even know if you remember, you sketched almost everyday back then so probably not.” The voice continued. “That’s okay, I’m just rambling.  
  
“Point is, even if I had been an artist, I wouldn’t have been able to capture you in any picture. Wouldn’t even know where to start. All the art skills in the world couldn’t do you justice.”

  
  
**~**

  
“You okay there Steve?” Sam’s voice came back into his periphery.  
  
“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just some stuff’s coming back from when was out.”  
  
“They’re gonna want to check you over before you’re discharged.”  
  
Steve wasn’t really listening. He’d already pulled back the covers. He was up on his feet before Sam could react.  
  
Sam placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Steve, I get it, I really do, a month’s a long time, but please take it slow.”  
  
Steve turned and took Sam into a sideways hug. “Thanks for having my back.”  
  
“Dude, I’ll always have your back.”  
  
Steve beamed. “I know, you too. I gotta go.”  


**~**

  
  
“Please, please, please, just open your eyes. I need to see them again. I’d try drawing them again if it meant I could see them.”  


**~**

  
  
He rounded the corner of the living quarters. Suddenly it seemed like the longest corridor he’d ever walked.  
  
Steve neared the door to his room, their room. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so uneasy—unbalanced.     
  
He slid open the door carefully, unsure if Bucky was sleeping. It was late at night after all.  
  
Bucky was facing away, lying curled up on his side.    
  
“Hey you.” Steve leant against the edge of the door.  
  
Bucky sat upright at the sound and turned to face Steve. He let out a very shaky breath.  
  
“Bucky are you—”  
  
“Oh, just…”  
  
Bucky rushed in to close the gap. Steve gasped as he was pushed against the wall. Bucky kissed him feverishly. Steve felt Bucky’s tears melt into his cheek. His own vision was beginning to blur too. Steve just pressed harder into the kiss.    
  
There was a softness within the urgency. A shiver that caressed the back of Steve’s neck. The truth they were both alive. He knew Bucky sensed it as well.  
  
Steve pulled back for a breath and cupped Bucky’s face gently. Bucky closed his eyes and smiled, tears still streamed. Steve felt him sigh slowly. Steve moved a thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears. Bucky deepened the smile and hummed. He leant further into Steve’s palm.    
  
A chill travelled up the right side of Steve’s stomach. A warmer tingle matched the feeling on his left. Bucky had moved his hands underneath Steve’s shirt.  
  
Bucky paused and Steve answered by pulling the shirt off and throwing it to the ground. Bucky bit his bottom lip and guided Steve onto the bed. Steve stroked Bucky’s thigh and moved in for another kiss. He dragged his other hand underneath Bucky’s shirt. Bucky shivered.    
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
Bucky just nodded and pushed off the bed, arching his back. He brushed his lips against Steve’s and raked lazy fingers through his hair. Bucky flicked his eyes up slowly and gazed deeply at Steve. Steve was enchanted by the way his lashes moved.  
  
Bucky seemed to catch his distraction because he flashed a smirk, full of charm.  
  
Steve’s stomach fluttered and he felt his breath catch. Bucky reached for his own shirt and pulled it over his head.  
  
Steve was really in trouble now. Bucky sat there for a moment as Steve breathed him in. He was suddenly aware of how lucky he was. It almost felt as if his chest would burst with the bliss.    
  
He trailed a finger from Bucky’s collarbone slowly down his chest. Bucky watched, slightly slack mouthed and with a flurried gaze. Steve felt him exhale deeper as Steve’s finger travelled further down. Bucky placed a hand on top of his and Steve stopped.  
  
Steve would have been content to sit there all day if Bucky wanted.  
  
“I,” his eyes skirted across Steve’s face. Steve rubbed Bucky’s hand with his thumb slowly. “I haven’t done anything like this in a while.”  
  
“We can take it slow.”  
  
Bucky reached up with both hands and cupped Steve’s face. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

  
Steve closed his eyes at the touch and smiled.  
  
“I could wait just as long.”  
  
Eyes still closed, Steve felt another lingering kiss press against his lips.  
  
~  
  
Their limbs poked haphazardly out of the covers. His breathing had evened out but the heat was still radiating off his skin.  
  
“So…” Steve trailed off.  “That was pretty sappy of you back in med-bay.”  
  
There was a brief pause before Bucky let out a stifled grown. “You heard that?”  
  
Steve couldn’t help the slightly smug grin. “Every word. It was very heartfelt.”  
  
“Shut up, Rogers.” Bucky poked him in the side of the ribs.  
  
“Woah, watch it, my ribs are a bit bruised ya know?”  
  
“Shoulda thought of that before you leapt out of a building.” Steve leant to the side and kissed Bucky’s cheek. He felt Bucky smile into it.  
  
“I do remember that day.” Steve said quietly.  
  
Bucky must have still heard it because he moved slightly.  
  
“You weren’t half bad at sketching.”  
  
“No need to be nice, Steve. I know I was bad.”  
  
“I still kept that drawing, though."  
  
“You’d better not have shown it anyone.”  
  
“And risk my reputation?” Steve replied sarcastically. He stroked his fingers up and down Bucky’s arm. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it.  
  
Bucky glanced sideways, a smile growing  “You think that shower will fit the both of us?”  
  
Steve felt a grin tug at his own lips. “There’s only one way to find out.”  
  
Bucky’s smile only grew. He mirrored Steve’s motions and dragged his fingers down Steve’s arm eventually landing on his hand which Bucky took. He gave a gentle pull, Steve willingly obliged.  
  
The two of them bumbled to the bathroom, still dizzy of sleep.  
  
Steve caught his reflection and the faint purple of his cheekbones stared back. Bucky stroked his thumb along the ridge and Steve leant into his palm. The gentle heat radiated  
  
“I’ll run the water,” Bucky murmured.  
  
The water sprayed softly like the start of a rainfall. The warmth eased into the corners of his aches. Bucky parted his lips and the gentle stream of water dripped steadily off them. He stroked his palm across Steve’s chest. Steve watched as Bucky’s fingers traced the lines where his ribs had bruised.  
  
“Do they really still hurt?”  
  
“Not really, not enough to matter.”

  
“It matters.” They locked eyes, fingers still brushing his ribs.  
  
“How’ve you been, Buck?” His eyes skirted over Bucky’s body, unknowingly lingering on the deep scars of his left shoulder. The hot water had turned them pink.    
  
“Me? Never better, ’specially now.”  
  
Steve tipped his head slightly and gave a loose smile. He reached with both hands and slowly linked them with Bucky’s. Bucky stared fixedly into Steve’s eyes and he was locked into their gaze.  
  
“Can you feel me?” Steve spoke softly, wavering.  
  
Bucky held up his left arm, still linked and pulled Steve closer. He rested his hands on either side of Steve’s chest. Steve could feel his breath. See the glow of his skin. The steam curled, creating a wispy cloak round them.  
  
“I can feel all of you.”  
  
His voice flowed as easily as day turns to night. The words spread like the first star to touch the sunless sky. Steve draped his arms over Bucky’s shoulders leaning in further. Bucky closed the remaining gap. Steve pushed gently deepening the kiss. He licked away the drops of water as he paused for a breath.  
  
The water had been gradually becoming colder but now finally ran cold. It hit his back with an intensity he wasn’t expecting. Bucky reached behind Steve, briefly brushing his side, and turned the spray off.    
  
The absence of running water took up the space. The sudden quiet allowed for the surrounding sounds to take over. They were faint, but were the only noise he could decipher. The quickened breaths, the irregular dripping falling off their hair. They stood there, Bucky with a look in his eye that enticed Steve.  
  
He could stand there for hours in the lingering heat. Face to face. Steve ran his finger down Bucky’s face and Bucky tipped his head back in response. Steve cupped Bucky’s chin.  
  
Steve grabbed the nearby towels and handed one over. He gave his hair some attention then wrapped the towel around his waist.    
  
They padded back into the bedroom leaving wet footprints in their wake. Bucky pulled back the covers and as he slipped under them, Steve finally felt at ease. Bucky climbed in beside and wedged himself into Steve, facing away. Steve slung his arm over and Bucky rested his hand over. He nestled his face into Bucky’s hair and closed his eyes.     
  
It was some hours later when the comfortable daze he’d been in began to slip. Hunger had started its persistent pang and he realized it must have been an age since he ate real food.  
  
“Do you think they have raspberry jam here?” He asked unaware how his mind had wandered so fast.  
  
There was a pause, and Steve could tell that Bucky was bemused by the sudden conversation.  
  
“I’m not entirely sure. Now, if you’d asked if they had weaponry that fires only with your fingerprint then they absolutely do.”  
  
“You’re getting one aren’t you?”  
  
“Well, of course,” he scoffed, “Carter set us up with some sweet tech.”  
  
Steve swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled a pair of shorts across the floor with his foot.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bucky gently pulled him back. Steve looked up at him while he lay in Bucky’s lap.  
  
“To find jam, and possibly some bread and a toaster.”  
  
“Okay,” Bucky leant down and kissed him again. “Let’s go find some.”  
  
SHIELD did in fact all three items on Steve’s list. He made four slices of toast, all smothered in raspberry jam. Steve devoured them with ease. Something so simple hadn’t tasted so good since, well since he had it in the orphanage.  
  
Leski had always bought the fresh, homemade jam from one of the market stalls. It was expensive—everything made from actual fruit was. It’s why she would only buy it on special occasions. She never mentioned what the occasions were, but every now and then a pot of it would appear in her shopping bags and news spread throughout the house of its arrival. The contents never lasted more than a week.  
  
As Steve picked up his final slice, Bucky reached across the table and took Steve’s hand in his. He was reminded of the time not long ago when Bucky had been deeply uncomfortable sitting in a cafe, let alone make any sort of physical contact. Perhaps a secret underground base didn’t count as a public space. Steve smiled despite the mouthful of toast.  
  
He was overwhelmed by a feeling that unnerved him. Something that shouldn’t have done.  
  
He was at peace.  
  
Bucky pulled away inexplicably and a moment later, Steve saw why.  
  
“I see you got back on your feet with no trouble.”  
  
Steve chuckled, feeling slightly embarrassed about his behaviour from the last time he saw Sam.  
  
“Thanks to you.” Steve pat his arm. “All I can say is it’s a good job I was unconscious most of the time I was healing.”  
  
“Yeah, you would have been a pain in the ass,” Sam replied.  
  
Bucky gave him a look and Steve felt himself blush.  
  
“I’m guessing your gonna pass on our regular appointment?” He turned to Bucky.  
  
“Not a chance. Why, you getting bored of losing?” Bucky shot back, a smirk tugging at the side.  
  
“Appointment?”  
  
“It was a long month,” Bucky supplied.  
  
“Looks like it,” Steve smiled.  
  
“You’re welcome to tag along if Bucky’s good with it.”

  
“You’re welcome to watch.” Bucky corrected, an eyebrow raised. “You aren’t cleared to do any activity.”  
  
“Is that so?” Steve tilted his head.    
  
“Oh, leave off it.” Bucky grinned. “Let’s go.”  
  
The target simulation room was empty when the three of them entered not long after.  
  
“The safe area is behind that glass.” Bucky pointed to the back of room.  
  
Steve did as he was told and slipped into the adjoining room. It became clear that it was also the control room. The hologram lit up as soon as he stepped in and offered a series of training scenarios. He watched as both Bucky and Sam routinely got themselves organized. They had clearly been doing it regularly enough for their movements to be methodical.  
  
“Could you hit the strange tales mode?” Sam called.  
  
“Got it!”  
  
The training room activated immediately, as did the holograms. Inside his room, the stats appeared on the screen.  
  
STRANGE TALES SIMULATION  
  
As the first target appeared, their heart rate stats elevated, if only minimally.  
  
Two bullets sounded.  
  
**BARNES: 1  
WILSON: 0**  
  
“Smooth move, Barnes.”

  
“I’m always smooth.”  
  
“Uh-huh.”  
  
Steve found a chair.  
  
Bucky snuck behind a crate and waited for the next wave of targets to appear. Sam went off separately to find a higher vantage point. The targets spotted them both after only a few moments and began firing back.  
  
**BARNES: 3  
WILSON: 4**  
  
Bucky charged in, leaving his gun slung across his chest. He picked up a knife and moved into a mess of jagged movements, so impossibly precise.  Dodging the opposing fists was like a dance that only one person knew the moves to.  
  
**BARNES: 8  
WILSON: 6**

  
“You gonna leave any for me?”  
  
Sam was playing it smarter by far, but Bucky had the upper hand for efficiency. Bucky’s feet seemed to hardly impact the floor before he was on to the next target. There was a controlled brutality to the way he punched.    
  
The simulation environment changed. They now stood in a more compact space, it allowed more to lurk behind the corner. Sam and Bucky now stood side by side. They pressed against the wall. Bucky inched towards the nearest corner.

Bucky held up his fingers and counted down. He nipped round and fired the gun. Two more targets dropped to the floor. Sam was right behind. He took out the remaining two before Bucky could aim again.

They hid behind the wall across from where they had stood. Sam dipped his head around and signalled the all clear.

They crept through the empty hallway.

Steve watched as more targets appeared. Neither of them had noticed yet.

Sam pulled open a door that led to a set of stairs. Bucky leapt onto the handrail and made a careful descent. He balanced delicately on the balls of his feet.   

Steve almost stood out of his chair.

“Now you’re just showing off.” Sam muttered under his breath.  He took off down the stairs.

Bucky shot more messily on the narrow railing, but it was no less impressive. He caught three in the chest on the way down.   

Sam made several clean head shots as he ran. He made it to the bottom mere seconds after Bucky.

At the end of the hall sat a tall column. A large button perched atop it.

They both set off running. Neither of them paused as they aimed behind. Bucky fired at an advancing target.

Sam slammed the button and the simulation stopped. The targets paused mid-walking. The environment changed to what it was at the start. A hologram appeared with the final score.

**BARNES: 15**

**WILSON: 14**   

Steve came out of the viewing room once everything had shut down completely.

“It was a close one,” he heard Bucky say.

“Oh shut it, Barnes,” Sam teased.

Steve grinned at the encounter.

Sam caught it. He pointed a finger. “Don’t start.”

Steve slung his arm over Sam’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They bumped into Natasha on the way back. She headed towards them.

“Rogers, it's good to see you up.”

“I’m glad you made it out alright.”

She glanced towards Sam briefly. “Well, I had no doubt you guys would make it in time.”

Steve smiled.

“Are you following us?” Sam said. His face softened as he spoke and he wore a lopsided smile.

“You’ve had the same morning routine for three weeks,“ Nat smirked. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I think anyone in this base would be able to find you.”

Bucky tapped Sam’s arm with the back of his hand. “She’s got you there.”

“You sure it was only a month I was out?” Steve teased.

“Shut it, Steve.” Sam grinned wide as he stared at the floor.

There was a brief pause and Nat looked between Steve and Sam a couple of times. She wore a sideways smirk.

“You two better not have made a mess in there.”

She walked between them before either Sam or Bucky could confirm it.

“I’m gonna go see if she wants some company.” Sam burbled.

Bucky stood, a satisfied smug look on his face. “Shall we?”

He gestured away from the simulation room. He didn’t wait for Steve to reply. Steve fell into step with Bucky, shoulders almost brushing.

“I didn’t know you had such smooth moves in ya, Buck.” Steve said eventually.  

Bucky flashed a look of mock-offence. “What? You couldn’t tell.”

“I guess I coulda guessed they would transfer over.”

Bucky simply raised his eyebrows. “You’re something else, Rogers.”

He pecked Bucky’s cheek as they linked hands. Warmth swelled inside him. They walked back to the room lazily still hand in hand.  

“Do you wanna go somewhere for lunch? I don’t feel like staying in the bunker all day.”

“I’d love to, Buck. You have somewhere in mind?”

Steve traced his thumb over Bucky’s hand.

“I thought maybe we could walk along the canal, see if we could spot something.”

“Lead the way.”

“I love your enthusiasm,” Bucky kissed his neck, “but I’m going to change first.”

Steve gave a dramatic sniff. “Yeah, you’d better do that.”

Bucky made an equally dramatic gasp and whacked Steve in the side.   

In the end Steve changed clothes as well, switching them for something a little more smart. Neither of them had many options.

A warm breeze moved in the air outside. It hit Steve that  it was his first time out of the base since the last mission. He sucked in a long breath taking in the pure freshness of the air. Somehow the dust hadn’t been able to grasp the little town as much as the other places he’d been.

It was only now that he was out he realized how stale the base had been. They had done their best as for ventilation down there, it wasn’t terrible. It just couldn’t begin to match the crisp atmosphere.

They wandered down the edge of the canal where many restaurants took their place. Steve watched the locals. Some hurried by without a second glance others took a similar pace to themselves.  

Eventually one restaurant caught their attention. It had a narrow patio overlooking the water and a string of lights hanging around its perimeter.

They walked in and were promptly greeted. The greeter was an android, but Steve saw that the rest of the employees were all human.

“For two?”

“Uh yes, thank you,” Steve replied.

The android floated away. It led them to a table beside the window. A single candle flickered in the centre.

As they sat down, the menu pinged to life. Two holograms hovered in front of them. Steve started to read the drink selection just as a waiter arrived. He stared for a long while, long enough for Steve to glance away from the menu.

The waiter was staring at Bucky pointedly. Steve followed his gaze, his breathing hitched when he realized why.

The waiter turned to Steve. “I apologize but we do not allow cyborgs.”

“Yeah, you sound terribly sorry to be kicking us out.”

“Steve,” Bucky warned.

“As I said, it is our policy.” He still didn’t face Bucky.

“You have androids,” Steve snapped.

The waiter flinched. “I’m going to have to ask your associate to leave.”

He tilted his chin up staring the waiter right in the eye. “Then ask.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Steve, please don’t. Can we just go?” Bucky reached out his hand.

“You’ve been staring at him since you arrived and yet you can’t look him in the eye?”

The waiter’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He looked like he went through several responses. He settled on silence.

Bucky stood up already making his way out. Steve followed after giving one last glare. He hadn’t noticed until then that everyone had been staring.

“I’m sorry Steve, I didn’t even think to bring my sleeve,” Bucky said once they were on the street again.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Its fine.”

“No it isn’t, it’s ridiculous.”

“Let’s just go back the base.” A hint of defeat in his voice.

“Ah come on Buck, it’s my first day out.” Steve scanned around. He spotted a good sized park at the very end of the path. “I have an idea.”

He led Bucky to a spot underneath a great tree. It was a willow, the branches were spread out thinly.

“Wait here.” Steve smiled.

Bucky squinted in suspicion.

Steve returned twenty minutes later with a large bag of food. He sat cross-legged next to Bucky and started to arrange the food.

“There’s a better view anyway.” Steve leaned in for a kiss and Bucky closed the distance.

“Thank you, really,” Bucky replied.

“I meant the canal actually.” Steve smirked and instinctively threw his hands in front of his face in defence.

“You’re a punk, Rogers."  

“I know.”

Steve offered a slice of cheese. Bucky took it in one bite. “I think this turned out better.”

“Its perfect.” Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s thigh.

Steve smiled, cheeks bulging from a mouthful.

“You remember the tree like this at the orphanage?”

“You reading my mind?” Bucky grinned. “We spent pretty much every day there.”

“We did, didn’t we.”  

Steve leaned into Bucky’s side who matched the movement.

The sky was beginning to move into its orange tones when finally started to head back to base. Steve was heavy eyed from the food. They took their time watching as the sun cast the golden ripple on the ground.

 

**~**

 

Steve was called into a meeting a few weeks later.  

  
“I thought it was time to show you what we’re dealing with,” Peggy spoke evenly.  
  
She tapped on her memoband and the holoscreen was flooded with Pierce’s intel instantly. It was a mix of schematics, reports, and most importantly, a timeline.  
  
“Nothing is as we predicted,” she continued. “The launch date is close and we’re running out of options. The truth is, we don’t have enough time to formulate a plan to stay on the ground, not before the launch.”  
  
“So we stay. Forget about Pierce’s plan and move our efforts to finding a way to lengthen everybody else’s time on the ground. It’s not like our invitations on that ship would be honoured anyway,” Steve replied bitterly.  
  
“It isn’t that simple. Survival on those ships is more guaranteed than down here. We need someone up there who won’t screw it up like Pierce. Someone who can lead to ensure the human race isn’t wiped out.”  
  
“How are you going to persuade Pierce to let you on board?”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about myself.” Peggy paused. “My efforts are best kept here, with SHIELD. You need to be the one to do it.”  
  
“With all due respect, Director, I’m not about to abandon my planet.”  
  
“How about saving the human race?” Peggy snapped. She regained her composure almost immediately.  
  
“We can get you a seat on that ship. It won’t be easy, but we can.”  
  
“I’d rather you didn’t."   

  
Natasha hadn’t said a single word the entire time. She watched him closely now as the silence came between them.  
  
“Excuse me.” Steve moved to leave. He knew that it was rude and that they probably had a lot more to share, but the tone had soured and he wasn’t in any mood to correct it.  
  
He hadn’t made it far when he heard approaching footsteps. He didn’t bother turning round.  
  
“Steve!”  
  
Steve stopped just as Natasha came beside him. He waited for her to make her move.  
  
“Peggy has run through every scenario, this is by far the best chance for humanity.”  
  
“Do better.” It was purely an emotional response. The plan was sound, logical. He had no right to demand more.  
  
“We don’t have enough time and you know it. This solution gives us two options, at least one has to work.”  
  
“I don’t disagree. It just can’t be me.”  
  
She nodded gently, her eyes searched his. She was calculating and open in the same moment.  
  
“Why do you say that? This can’t just be about abandoning the planet, as you put it. ”  
  
She was right, of course. The other reason was far without its nobility. He looked away and sighed carefully.  
  
“I made a deal,” Steve faced her again, “with Pierce.”    
  
Natasha considered this, calm and collected as ever. He didn’t deserve it.  
  
“Whatever it is, we can get round it, we c—“  
  
“It relies on me not being one of the six thousand.” Steve cut in. The words settled awkwardly in the air. There was a beat.  
  
“This doesn’t have anything to do with Barnes, does it?”  
  
Steve couldn’t reply, not verbally. Something told him he didn’t really have to.  
  
“And how is that not giving up?”  
  
“I’m sorry?” He had to re-evaluate every projection of how this conversation would go.  
  
“I’m a spy, Steve, and one thing I’ve learned is the heart never lies.” She met his gaze. “If you truly believed there was a solution that ends with us still on Earth, you wouldn’t have needed to make that deal.”  
  
“There are always risks.”  
  
“You’ve made it pretty clear which side you’ve placed your bets on.” She turned away slightly. “I hardly think he would take that spot without you on board."  
  
“He won’t know.”  
  
She considered him for a brief second. “How is that any better?”  
  
Natasha reached into her pocket then took his hand and placed the drive into his palm, wrapping fingers around it. His next breath caught. She was essentially handing him the most powerful key in the intelligence community. Her expression fell into something between disappointed and mystified. It was devastating to watch.  
  
“Peggy doesn’t hand out trust easily, Steve. I hope you know that.”  
  
He did, thoroughly.  
  
Steve stared at the drive long after she was out of sight. There was a great divide between what he’d pledged. He knew all along it would come. It made it no less unsettling.It was one quiet evening. A day that no one would suspect, when the stalemate came to an end.

A message on his memoband told Steve that the countdown had begun. Launch day had finally arrived.

It snapped Steve into immediate action.

“We need to go.”

The urgency in his voice made Bucky get up without hesitation.

“Where are we going?”

Steve carried on running he couldn’t look anywhere but ahead.  

“ _Steve_! Where are we going?”

“Just get in the hover. The launch has started.”

“What exactly are you planning to do?”

“Something reckless.”

Steve flung open the doors and stepped into a hovercar. Bucky followed and sat in the passenger side.

“Steve Rogers!”

Peggy’s voice boomed across the great empty space. He stopped dead in his tracks. The guilt was instant.

He stepped down and turned on the spot ignoring Bucky’s pointed look. Nat stood beside her, face unreadable.

“You should have told me,” Peggy said finally. “We could have worked something out.”

Steve looked down and took a breath before he met her gaze again. “

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

Steve glanced sideways. The second they locked eyes, all words failed him.

“When he was arrested he made a deal with Pierce.” Nat started, “he gave up his spot for you.”

The silence stretched for several beats.

Bucky slowly turned to face Steve. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You shouldn’t have to give your chance because you tried to expose a corrupt organization,” Steve explained.

“I’m staying here, with you.”

For the first time Peggy showed signs of unrest. She shifted her weight. It was ever so slight, but Steve caught it out of the corner of his eye.

“I promised you I wouldn’t get myself killed, but I thought if I couldn’t do that maybe I could make sure you didn’t.”

Steve locked eyes with Peggy. Remorse was hidden beneath the unwavering strength.

“I need to talk to you.” She worked her jaw and looked down. When she looked up again he was met with the familiar determination.

He nodded knowingly.

“We need to get you to that ship.” She said calmly.  “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am, but I need you on that ship.”

The tone was unexpected. Her words wavered ever so slightly.  

“What did you do?”

“Something unforgivable.”

He searched for clarity. Her expression revealed nothing. “Peggy, tell me.”

“I built an empire beneath Pierce without him ever noticing, he didn’t even come close. But Thompson must have alerted him or someone like him.”

“None of that matters now Peggy. The ship is leaving, they’ve ended the program.”

“No, you don’t get it. The testing wasn’t a front. Well, it was and it wasn’t, it was something deeper. But they had made progress, a lot of progress. It would help us down here.”

“What has the test got to do with anything now?” He said, a little too frantically.

“That information is useless to them but invaluable to us. Pierce offered it up. So long as he had the names of every sleeper agent I’ve ever placed. Every one of them had a seat out of here.”

“There’s still time we—“

“To do what Steve? This is the best case scenario.”

“Where do I come in? How did you persuade him to let _me_ on?”

“I didn’t need to, he insisted that you were part of the deal. “

His heart skipped a beat.

“You need to make sure he doesn’t kill them.” Peggy continued, blissfully unaware. “I can’t get a message to my agents, it’s too late for that. Besides, I don’t know who’s been turned like Agent Thompson. ”

Her voice was distant, out of focus.

“You need to get to him first. Steve, are you listening?”

He could pick up her tone, the edge of desperation.

“The trade doesn’t happen until the ships are launched. I don’t think he trusts me too much anymore.”

He forced himself to latch on to her words.

Steve huffed a laugh. “Quite right, too.”

“We’ll do our best down here, I need you to do the same.”

Steve stood a little straighter. He looked at Peggy, the world on her shoulders. She hadn’t wavered for a second.

“I’ll do it.”

Pierce would get what he wanted.  

The hovercar ride was too quick. Peggy and Nat took the front seats while Steve spent most of the journey hunched over. He wrung his hands so tightly it hurt.

Bucky leaned into him and gently placed a hand on Steve’s thigh. The touch was soft, but it grounded him nonetheless.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep our promise,” Steve said softly.

“It was a tough one to keep.” Bucky stared for a moment before reaching for something at his neck. “I didn’t really know why I’d kept these.”

He pulled his tags over his neck. “Now it just seems right that you should have them.”

Steve took them, but left his hand lingering on Bucky’s.   

“Keep them safe for me.”

Steve pulled his own tags off and put the chain in Bucky’s palm. “A chain for a chain.”

“A heart for a heart.”

Steve dared to glance at Bucky.  

He wore a small smile but his eyes didn’t share the same sentiment. “Stay alive.”

Steve placed his hands on Bucky’s arms. He stared down before Bucky placed a finger on Steve’s chin forcing him to look up.  

“Hey, you.”

The hovercar stopped. Steve didn’t venture a glance outside.

“Bye, Buck.” The words caught, his mouth didn’t want to speak them.

Bucky took the back of Steve’s neck and guided it forward. He pressed his forehead onto Steve’s and heaved a sigh.

Steve moved in for a kiss hoping for a last taste. It was easy to allow himself to cry. He didn’t, he swallowed back the tears. Put them back in their cage. The kiss didn’t last long enough, in that moment nothing could. Bucky pulled away.

Steve took in a shaky breath and jerked open the hovercar door and stepped out. He closed it again before he could decide otherwise.

He stood straighter, set his shoulders back, and clenched his jaw. Like he’d done a hundred times before.   

Without any more delay, he strode towards the ships entrance. The ramp had already been placed down.

He peered ahead and forced himself not to falter, not to look behind him, not for even a second. He knew that's all it would take.

Three ships towered overhead—all identical except for the names painted on their sides. Now that Steve saw them, it was hard to imagine that it had taken only five years.

The exterior covered completely in mirrors. They glinted with the harsh lights that lined the ceiling of the hangar bay. The nearest ship was embellished with _ATHANASIOS._ The lettering curled in an elegant fashion.

Steve stopped at the base of the ramp. Beside it, a guard stood idly.

The guard stretched out his hand. “Key?”

“Steve Rogers.”

“No key, no seat.”

“I’d look up that name if I were you.”

The guard sighed but lifted his arm up. He typed in the air and Steve watched as his face appeared on the screen.

The guard gestured up the ramp. “The director would like to speak with you before we take off.”

“I’m sure he would,” Steve grumbled.

Slowly he walked into the ship. Unlike the hanger, the interior lights were dim. They lined both sides of the curved walls.

He found the cockpit only as he followed the familiar voice travelling through the snaking tunnels. Steve approached it carefully through the door opened before he could listen in.

Two guards moved into the entrance. Steve just glared.

“Ah,” Pierce waved away the guards. He handed Steve a spacesuit. “Captain Rogers, you made the right choice. How were the goodbyes?”

Pierce smiled, satisfaction radiating from him.

“Shorter than I’d hoped.” Steve replied. A burning hatred rekindled in his chest.

“You are fortunate to have had time, there’s not a lot to go around these days.”

Fortunate. Steve tensed everything while keeping his face as neutral as possible.

_“Launch sequence initiated. All passengers are required to find their allocated seat immediately.”_

Pierce took the chair nearest him. He motioned towards the one beside it. “Please take a seat.”

Steve ignored him. Pierce signalled behind and Steve was shoved into the chair by the waiting guard.

The guard walked silently to the back of the cockpit and took his own seat.

“What do you need me for?” Steve growled.

“Need you? Who says I need you for anything?” Pierce replied, his voice indifferent. He diverted his attention to the buckles of his seat.

“ _Don’t.”_

Steve practically shuddered with anger.

“You knew I’d come.”

“No, I didn’t, but I knew that you’d have to choose between the needs of many and the wants of your heart.”

Pierce grabbed the helmet from beside him. He slipped it over his head. There was a distinct click as it locked in place.

“And I knew that either choice would haunt you till the end of your days.”

Steve faced forward just as the ship lurched up. He was pressed against the seat. Trapped in more ways than one.

The metal groaned.

He focused on the outside. The sky shook with a building violence. Steve sucked in a breath and another. It was never enough.

The pressure built with an unbearable intensity. His lungs felt immensely fragile. He could imagine his ribs making fresh bruises as he sat there. It was if a great hand had reached through his chest, twisting everything inside.

He waited for the metal to peel away, to strip off the only protection they had, leaving them to the mercy of space. It never came.

Steve watched as they slipped through the thin atmosphere. It breathed them in as one great inhale. The ship shuddered inside its mouth.

There was an exhilarating sense of relief as it spat them out of the other side.

He was immediately caught by the peace of it all. It was hard to believe what had come moments before.  

Outside was nothing but darkness. Darkness and an overwhelming silence. The stars shone with a demanding charm. They had never been so captivating.  

Steve could almost forget what allowed them to be. Almost forget where he sat.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Pierce took his attention away. “I’ve never been one for looking up at the stars, but this, this is truly something.”

Steve didn’t reply, just watched as they drifted through an endless sky.

It was probably the only thing they would ever agree on.

“It’s amazing that we were even able to get up here.” Pierce chuckled, he shook his head a little. “There was a moment I thought it wouldn’t happen, shortage of supplies and all—especially metal. But after four years of the draft and here we are.”

Steve tensed. He stared ahead he wouldn’t—couldn’t—look at Pierce.

He exhaled. Pierce was provoking him and against all of Steve’s wishes, it was working. “What do you mean?”

“Surely you’ve figured it out by now? No?”

Pierce revelled in knowing Steve clearly had not.

Steve needed to get out. If Pierce was willing to tell him the true purpose, it couldn’t be good.

“Come on Rogers, I thought you better than this. Where do you think we got the metal from?”

Everything clicked into place. Steve felt the pit in his stomach deepen. It was more than dread.

It made sense why there progress had stalled. Why they had started it up again once they had cyborgs.

“Oh, stop. It’s called sacrifice. If it’s any comfort, they and their families were more than compensated,” he unclipped one of the buckles of the harness. Steve followed suit. “Some of them are even on board.”  

“Is it okay to stand up now?” Steve said evenly.

“Yes, the ship has stabilized."  

Slowly, he stood up, his jaw clenched so tight it began to ache. He circled his wrist a few times before punching the Director squarely on the cheekbone.

There was a crunch. Steve walked himself out before the guards had time to react.

“Take him to his quarters! And make sure he doesn’t _get out!”_ He heard Pierce shout after him.

 

**~**

 

Steve stared out the window of his new quarters. It was a view that was unlike any other. It was truly enthralling. He’d always been in awe at the brilliance of the night sky and now he was close. And dear god he didn’t want to be.

Earth spanned across the bottom half of the glass. It taunted him. He would soon be in a foreign sky with new stars to learn. How long would it be until he wasn’t able to see the Earth at all?

He tinted the glass to the darkest level and turned away. The room brought him to a stand still. It wasn’t the size, he could deal with the smallness. No, it was how close the emptiness was. In a big space, it’s easy to ignore, small and he was forced to accept it.

_"Attention all passengers, we are now proceeding docking with the Hydra and the Leviathan. Please be warned the ship may experience sudden movements. Once docking is complete, travel between the three vessels will be enabled."_

Steve sat on the edge of the bed. He’d finally been able to get his breathing under control. It had taken everything not to fight the guards as well. He had used the pent up energy towards pacing instead.

The spacesuit lay on the floor in front of him. It was yet another reminder on where he was.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to do. He still had a job to get done, but genuinely he didn’t know where to begin.

A feeling of helplessness set in. He stood up before it took hold.

He’d broken into Pierce’s office, he could damn well break out of this room.

Steve felt around the edge of the door, but it was hard to even distinguish it from the wall. He searched around beside it for any sort of control panel. He pressed the wall lightly to find the mechanism. There would have to be a failsafe incase there was ever a loss of power. Steve was also certain that it would come with an alarm against tampering.

A small section released near the doorknob and he flicked it open for a better view. He was met with a collection of wires and chips.

He was way in over his head.

Docking would be a slow and extremely precise procedure. The fact that there was more than one ship, would also add time. Steve estimated he would have about three hours.

No gun, no shield, no communication—three hours.  

There was always the option of destroying the whole panel. But if all he needed was for someone to open the door, he wouldn’t have to touch the wires. He could destroy anything in the room and it would alert security.Pierce would be too busy with the docking to be watching the cameras and if he was discreet, he could make it look like a malfunction.

Steve would need to wait until the last hour of docking to be sure there wouldn’t be many eyes on him. It was a patience he wasn’t sure he had.

There was also the issue of Peggy’s trade. Steve couldn’t intervene too early and risk ending it completely. He also couldn’t let Pierce read any one of the names that would be on that list.

His brain was going in overdrive again, but this time he had something to focus on. The thoughts wouldn’t be allowed to build themselves in the stillness.  

With a gentle press of the latch, the panel moved back into its original place.

Steve gave the room a quick once over, something he should have done when he first entered. The camera wasn’t overtly hidden, but it sat high in the corner where a casual glance wouldn’t detect it.

Satisfied with at least a part of his plan, Steve lay down on the bed facing away from the door—and the camera. He could at least fake sleeping and not rouse suspicion from sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall.

He set a timer on his memoband. He needn’t have bothered. It was as if he was forcing time to move. Dragging it though mud just to keep it moving.    

The _Hydra_ was close now.

He slipped off the side of the bed and stood. He walked towards where the camera hung and in one swift motion, he punched the lens. Caution had had its time. It splintered like ice.

The release of the door came not long after. Steve pressed against the wall as it slid open.

He caught himself mid-swing as Maria walked in.

“Maria?”

She turned to where he was standing. A momentary expression passed over her face.

“Steve,” she frowned slightly, “how the _hell_ are you on board?”

He lifted his arms. “You know me.”

“Not well enough apparently.” There was a pause as she looked behind him, noticing the camera. “Anger problems?”

“I needed a way out.”

“And what were you going to do when it wasn’t me behind that door?”

“I would have figured something out. Does this mean you’re not letting Pierce know?”

“ _Pierce?_ Who’s—"

“Durami.”

“I feel like there’s a lot that’s happened since I last saw you, and no, if you’re the type of person that the Director thinks needs to be behind bars, there’s something wrong.”

“You’ve known me just as long.”

“I haven’t been on missions with him.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Captain.” She smiled. “Let’s get you out of here and you can tell me that plan of yours.”

“Plan?” He raised his eyebrows.

Maria gave a look of mock disbelief. She scanned something and the door opened again. As Steve stepped through one of the guards placed a hand on Maria.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Dinner, the Director hasn’t locked him away just for him to starve.”

“Does the Director know?”

“Look at my uniform and ask that again."

His hand slipped to his side and Maria took off walking again.

“So two guards, huh?” She asked once they were out of earshot.

“I guess that’s what happens when you punch the Director.”

She shot him a glance. “It’s a big day for punching.”  

He chuckled. “Sure is. How’s the team?”

“It’s okay.” Her voice dropped. “Rumlow was made Captain after you were found out. He runs things quite… differently.”

They walked down several hallways, each one identical to the last. A small circular window was situated at the end of them. Stars spilled through the glass.

“Does this ship have a comms room?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, but it’s protected.” She turned another corner. “Are you going to fill me in any time soon on what actually went down?”

“I can try, but honestly, I don’t understand half of it.”

Steve took her back to the weeks before to their first mission. It was the only place he could start. The drive was what had started his suspicion. The test is what fuelled it. It was only as he began talking he realized just how much had happened.

He left out what he learned in the cockpit.

Maria was silent for a long time after he finished talking. Steve exhaled a long breath, he’d hardly stopped once the entire time.  

“Bet you wish you hadn’t asked huh?”

“Not a chance, let’s get you to the comms room.”

It was only has they neared that Steve realized he still wasn’t sure how to proceed.

They stopped in an adjacent corridor while Steve got his thoughts in order. “Do you know a way to intercept any incoming data. Not so it will completely cancel them, just so we can read them before?”

Maria’s eyes widened. “That is definitely not my specialty. But, it is Daisy’s.”

“Will she be with us?”

“She hates Rumlow,” she said simply, “I think we’ll be alright.”

Steve huffed a laugh.

Daisy met them several minutes later a gleeful look in her eyes. “I hear you need to hack some shit? Hey, Cap.”

“Good to see you again, Daisy.”

“What d’ya need to do?”

“Can you intercept the data that goes in and out of the ship?”

“In a flash, if it’s the other two ships as well, it’ll be a bit tricker.”

“I think we’ll just need this one.”

Daisy nodded. “I’ll meet you guys. You probably shouldn’t just be hanging around in the open.”

“It seems like the Director picked out the wrong person for the new Captain.”

Daisy smirked. “You got that right. Now go!”

She turned on the spot and strode towards the comms room.

Maria shrugged. “I guess that’s that then. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

She guided them into another room. It was mostly empty and the broad window at the end made it seem like it went on forever.

“This space isn’t open to the public yet. We can wait here.”

“You sure? It’s pretty open.”

“We are _fine_.”

Steve slid to the floor and rested his back against the wall. All he could do was wait.

Maria took the spot next to him and sent Daisy their location. They sat together agonizing over the act of waiting.

Daisy walked in some time later holding a holopad. She startled both Steve and Maria.

“Okay, this should do it. Any comm links or data will be diverted to this,” she waved the screen, “after that you’ll be able to read anything that gets sent.”

She handed it over.

“Thanks. Were you able to see if anything’s been sent or received already?”

“I swept the database, there’s nothing yet. What are you waiting on?”  

“Something Peggy sent.”

“Agent Carter?”

Steve nodded and focused his attention back on the window. The Hydra performed the last manoeuvre of docking. He saw the huge clamps locking into place. The ship quivered slightly. Docking was complete.

It was only a matter of time before the engines surged again.

Minutes passed, but as if on cue, a data file was sent. The destination was Earth.

Simultaneously, a file was received. The file coming from Earth was halted. He only had a few seconds before Pierce would get twitchy.

Steve opened the first file, he scanned the first few lines. It confirmed it was the results from the test and he allowed it to send. He clicked on the second. Operation Paperclip scrolled across the screen. It was indeed the names of SHIELD’s undercover agents.

“Is there a way to corrupt the file? So it will still send but be unreadable?”

“Yes,” Daisy paused, “but it will be a temporary fix.”

“Do it.”

She took back the screen and pressed several buttons quickly. “Done, you probably have fifteen minutes once someone finds out.”

“Then that’s all I’ll need.”

Something flashed in the nearby window.  Steve moved closer not quite believing what he saw. His eyes weren’t deceiving him, however. There was another ship approaching them.

It was tiny in comparison. Probably with space for four people, but it was fast. It moved at an impressive pace.

“Steve, what is it?”

There was no doubt now. It was aiming straight for the Athanasios. It veered off making a beeline for the ship. The other ship was almost invisible. The exterior blended in with the darkness of space.

Steve could just about make out one word.

 _Valkyrie_.     

A wave of nausea washed over him. It was riddled with hope.

It was too much of a coincidence for it to arrive now.

The _Valkyrie_ flew overhead so that Steve could no longer see it, but something told him they would be attaching themselves on top.

“Is there a docking port on the top of this ship?”

“Yeah, I think I saw one on the schematics,” Maria replied, a small frown between her eyebrows.

“Show me.”

He broke off almost in a sprint.

“Steve! What about the file? It’s only fifteen minutes,” Daisy called.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

He thought he heard her mutter something.

Maria caught up and kept the pace he’d set. They ran up several sets of stairs finally entering to where the hatch brought in the other ship.   

The Valkyrie landed in the centre. After a moment of quiet, the ramp began to open. Maria trained her gun on the opening. It was, after all, the sensible thing to so. It could be anyone who had flown it here.    

A figure crept out, guns high. It took barely a second to realize who it was. He was both relieved and devastated. Steve waved absentmindedly at Maria to lower her gun.

“Steve, oh thank god, Steve you’re alive,” Bucky cried, already running.  

Bucky gave a final sigh. “We got an anonymous tip that Pierce planned to kill you. That’s why he brought you here.”

“He met me as soon as I came on board, why would he be waiting? Anyway, he gave me another more characteristic reason.”

Bucky gave a complicated expression, his features scrunched. “That doesn’t make any sense why would—“

Bucky’s mouth clamped shut.

“I think that tip was a trap.” Steve deflated a little.

“Steve you have eight minutes.” Maria moved to his side. She glanced quickly towards Bucky.

“Right.” He sighed.

He let every speck of anger come to the surface. Everything he’d bottled up and pushed down in favour of being calm, rational even. It all reverberated through him.

“Let’s go find Pierce.”

Pierce had picked him apart, piece by piece. Now Steve was going to do the same to him.  

 

**~**

 

The corridors stretched and twisted Steve felt as if he was walking in circles. The pockets of sky blurred passed as he picked up his pace.

He didn’t know where the Director would be. Who knew the truth and who didn’t have a clue what secrets lay in wait.   

Steve did know a way to find him.

“Maria, I need you to find every agent that was on the list Peggy sent. Make sure they’re okay. I’m guessing not all of them will be on this ship, but find as many as you can.”

“I’ll do my best, but my station is on the _Athanasios._ Passing over into one of the other ships will be logged.”

“Uh, okay,” he ran his fingers, “Do you know where Fury is stationed?”

“He’s on the _Hydra.”_

 _“_ Good, get into contact with him, tell him about the list.”

She gave one short nod. “Got it. Fury too?”

Maria didn’t wait for an answer.

Bucky turned when she was out of earshot.

“What are you going to do?”

“Something I should have done a while ago, when we still had the upper hand.”

Bucky took Steve’s hands in his. He held them with a gentle and grounding pressure. “Don’t do something you’re going to regret, alright? Don’t let it swallow you.”

Steve searched his eyes finding the comfort he’d been drawn to before. He placed Bucky’s hand on his own cheek feeling the gentle warmth.

“You’ll always have me.” Steve closed his eyes for a moment. “In the end, you’ll always have me.”  

Bucky let his hand slip to his side. He smiled, it was tainted with sorrow.

“Anthony Durami!” His voice echoed through the speakers. “Right now, a question will have occurred to every one of your passengers. If you don’t want them to know the answer, I suggest you do exactly what I tell you. Either way, they know you are keeping secrets. It’s a dangerous thing to have in such close quarters, don’t you think?”

Steve let the words bounce down the hallways.

“I’ll be in the comms room.” He flicked the speaker off.

The seconds ticked by, each one the longer than the last. He faintly heard a flood of heavy footsteps. They grew louder. Steve stepped into the corridor just as the footsteps came round the corner.

It was Rumlow. He led the pack of agents, all ready to fight. They sprung into action once they saw Steve.

Steve dodged the first flying fist, kicking the agent at the back of the knee as he spun behind him. The next one was on him in an instant. Narrowly missing a baton, he ducked. The baton clattered to the floor as he yanked it out of their hands.

Bucky had followed. He caught an agent in the throat. They crumpled under Bucky’s fist.

Rumlow sprung off of the side of the wall. It gave him a boost that had him flying towards Steve. Steve blocked Rumlow’s fist. They both crashed to the floor. Rumlow threw a punch. It scraped Steve’s cheek.

Steve caught his fist on the rebound just as Rumlow was yanked off of him.

Bucky had hold of his neck with his metal arm. He slammed Rumlow against the wall. His face crunched.

A pile of bodies surrounded them. The laboured breaths coming from them rung into Steve’s ears.

Someone else rounded the corner and this time Bucky pulled up his gun. Facing them was Alexander Pierce.

“Well, you’ve made quite the mess.” His tone was smooth and unaltered. He didn’t react to seeing Bucky.

“It’s wonderful you decided to show up.” Steve spoke with venom in his voice. He motioned towards the comms room. “Shall we?”

Pierce moved cautiously. Steve locked the door once all three of them were inside. He fixed the gun on Pierce’s forehead.

“Agent Barnes, what a surprise,” Pierce said.

“Is it?” Steve replied.

“So you got my tip.”

“Did you mean anything you said in the cockpit?”

“Every word.”

“You think you’ve won.” Steve frowned, a smile forming on his lips.

“Have I not? Look where we are, or do you forget that _I_ run this ship _._ ”

“Oh yeah?” Steve leaned in close. “There are sleeper agents in these halls. Agents you were going to flush out of hiding to do who knows what. Well, now they know you’re after them and I think you’ll be surprised by just how many Peggy hid from you.”

“A mere handful to what I have. There are six thousand people on this ship.”

Steve moved to the monitors, his gun was still aimed high. “How many know your name?”

“My name is what I choose it to be. It doesn’t change me.”

“I never said it did.”

Steve clicked the speaker again. “Attention all passengers of the Tri-Ship. This is Captain Steve Rogers and I’m going to give you the truth about Anthony Durami. He’s not who you think he is. His real name is Alexander Pierce.”

He plugged in the drive that Nat had made weeks before. “He changed his name because of what he’d done and anyone who got close to the secrets was quickly taken out by any means necessary. You need proof? Look at your holopads.”

The speakers went silent. Steve pressed the gun back into its original position. If Pierce was nervous, he didn’t show it.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna test that theory, Director?” Steve took the safety off the gun. “Let’s see just how well you know me.”

A flicker of doubt passed over the Director’s face. A shadow in his otherwise neutral expression.

A gun fired. Pierce’s head lolled over the back of the chair. The bullet hole was visible between his eyebrows.

Steve peered behind him, a gasp caught in his throat. Bucky stood, gun still extended. He let it clatter to the floor. His face was like stone.

Steve rushed to his side. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Bucky finally broke his stare. He looked right at Steve.

“I had to,” he whispered.

 

**~**

 

Steve stared out the window of his quarters. They were smaller than the ones on the _Athanasios,_ but it was more than enough.

They had taken the _Valkyrie_ in search of a new planet after it had become obvious that Pierce had never found a destination.

He wasn’t sure how long he would call it home, but they would soon find a new one.

One with a new sky to look up at. The moons would gleam in a different light—the suns would cast it.

It was inevitable after entering another galaxy.

It didn’t matter what it looked like because Steve could call anywhere home; just as long as it was with Bucky.

They sat side by side, flying effortlessly though the magnificent blanket of stars.  



End file.
